


i just wanna be (your baby)

by crumblyoaf



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Angst, Dissociation, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Teen Romance, all the 2park feels, anxiety attack, chapter six tags, described but please read at your own discretion, i can't do slowburn for my life, is that a thing ??????, my dodgy attempt at angsty teenage backstories, summer break!au ??????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-01-21 20:16:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12465104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crumblyoaf/pseuds/crumblyoaf
Summary: In all 18 years of Park Woojin's life, he has never felt an urge to smother himself in someone else's warm embrace, share food with another person, hold hands in the sunshine with another person, or admire someone with starry eyes and a pounding heart (at least that's what the movies say).But when he encounters a brunet with sparkly eyes and rosy cheeks, neon shoelaces hanging out his pocket, and a wink that could save people from the brink of death, he starts to think a little differently.





	1. so many places to be, people to meet in tropical heat

 

Park Woojin is quite possibly the Biggest Oaf Ever when it comes to love (Lee Daehwi’s words, not his).

 

Sure, he’s had his fair share of crushes but not only has he done absolutely nothing about them, but when they have expressed any type of interest in him, so far as to actually asking him out, his answer has always been:

 

 

“Uh, I’m okay, thank you.”

 

 

(Cue Daehwi’s screams and re-enactment of the end of the world)

 

Though his best friend possesses the flair for dramatics, even he’s a little dumbfounded at himself.

               

It’s not that Park Woojin loses feelings as soon as he catches them, but something about opening up and being so intimate with one person gives him the heebie-jeebies. Or maybe it’s his fear of commitment... but he doesn’t dwell on that one too much.

 

Daehwi just doesn’t understand his struggles and brushes them off as “hyung you’re just trying to butter up your natural awkwardness, it’s _okay_.” 

 

Youngmin and Donghyun only collectively sigh whenever Daehwi bursts through the door, spluttering an exaggerated retelling of yet another one of Woojin’s rejections to another person.

 

 

_“But hyung! It was different this time, he came knocking on our class door with a guitar slung on his back with roses and the whole shebang!”_

 

 

_“Sure, Daehwi.”_

 

 

But aside from that, Woojin has never had his eyes set on love, despite being the prime age and in the prime environment (high school with its overflowing hormones and troubled teens trying to find their sense of belonging through unconventional means), and to everyone around him (read: Daehwi, that little prick), it’s bizarre.

 

Is it so crazy that he isn’t dying to find his one and only? Or experience affection from another person that isn’t his mother?

 

It happens on a day where (if Woojin remembers correctly from godforsaken Geography class) the high-pressure system is at its peak, simultaneously drawing out every drop of sweat from his pores as well as slow business. He’s just about to pass out from the gruelling heat, before someone with mismatching shoelaces hanging out of his pocket and a pair of mesmerising eyes hidden under brown bangs walks in. Suddenly, Woojin’s perception of love turns a full 180°.

 

-

 

“Woojin-ah, do you mind helping out at the pharmacy today?”

 

 

His mother’s voice floats from the kitchen and Woojin opens one eye, only to be shot in the pupil by a stream of sunlight. He immediately curses and squints his eyes shut, hiding his face into his sheets.

 

It’s too early for this.

 

 

“Woojinie, did you hear me- come on hon, time to rise and shine! Your mother has a store to open and sick people to attend to!”

 

 

His mother, in her pristine white coat and blue collared shirt, barges into his room and rumples at the sheets where the shape of his face is outlined, resulting in a loud whine and his mother’s bubbly laughter.

 

 

“Come on Woojinie,” she tugs at a tuft of red hair peeking from his duvet cocoon (earning a loud ‘ow!’ from the owner of the hair) and kisses the top of his head before straightening any wild creases on her coat and leaving his room.

 

 

Woojin reluctantly pops his head out of his blanket and gathers his senses before shuffling into his pink crocs (they’re only _house slippers_ , he argues but Daehwi never lays off his case) and entering the bathroom.

 

First day of summer break and he’s already being subject to labour, with no money in return for his brilliant retail skills. 

 

How spectacular. 

 

He spits his toothpaste foam out in the sink with such force that it splashes back onto his shirt as if to say ‘this is what you receive for releasing your frustration on me’. Woojin apologises silently to the non-sentient basin.

 

The redhead peels his tank top off and winces at the cold wind hitting his bare stomach (albeit a hard rock stomach, it’s still a little sensitive to drafts of wind). He throws on a clean white shirt (Woojin refuses to perpetuate the stereotype of dirty teenage boys who only possess clothing with questionable stains) and blue board shorts. Glancing up and down at his outfit in the full-length mirror, he thinks he fits the colour scheme of the pharmacy quite well.

 

 

“Mum! I’m ready!” He yells, hoping that she catches his drift and makes him breakfast to hype him up before serving countless customers who’ll shove prescriptions in his face for easy over-the-counter medications, and promptly waste his time. 

 

 

“Took you long enough! There’s cereal in the cupboard, get it yourself!”

 

 

Alas, she doesn’t catch his drift.

 

Woojin heaves out a large sigh before blinking a few times and breathing out. It’s only the beginning of the day and he already wants it to be over, pronto.

 

-

 

**_the hoe-mones (minus woojin)_ **

 

**_daethebae_ **

_whats up famalam can we get_

_ice-cream today it’s hothothOT_

 

**_yvngmin_ **

_sure i’m free, who’s shouting tho_

 

**_dongie_ **

_not me i s2g lee daehwi if you’re_

_making us pay for your goddamn_

_tower of scoops i’m coming over_

_and swinging your ass over the_

_yellow sea_

 

**_woothepoo_ **

_no can do i’m at the chemist_

_2day, not that i wanted to see_

_daehwi’s face anyways_

 

**_yvngmin_ **

_what about me and dong_

_we miss you and your_

_snaggletooth_

 

**_dongie_ **

_^^ :((_

 

**_woothepoo_ **

_okay i miss u guys heaps_

_holidays just started_

_and mother dearest has_

_got me selling allergy tablets_

_to overreacting middle-aged_

_women i want 2 cry big fat tears_

 

**_daethebae_ **

_ok i just wanted to hang out like_

_good ole times but cleARLY_

_none of my friends love me_

 

**_yvngmin_ **

_i’m only coming if you treat_

_you can’t ask us out if you aren’t_

_paying_

 

**_dongie_ **

_ditto_

 

**_daethebae_ **

_i’m only treating if woojin_

_says yes to a suitor_

 

**_woothepoo_ **

_well… see you never asshole_

 

**_yvngmin_ **

_ditto_

 

**_dongie_ **

_^^ !!!!!!!!!!!!_

 

-

 

Business is sluggish today, the heat with bonus humidity glazing over the citizens of Woojin’s hometown and rapidly slowing down everyone who was forced outside for errands. The eighteen-year-old is barely surviving but he’s hanging on due to the pharmacy having to follow regulations and install air conditioning.

 

Woojin’s about to knock out over the counter and scatter the boxes of cough drops he meticulously stacked in heated boredom before the bell jingles, signifying a customer. His head shoots upright so quickly that he gives himself whiplash. His eyes widen when he spots the customer, donning an insanely bright pink corduroy jacket (a questionable choice considering the Busan climate) and orange shorts, with a white shirt to _level_ the rainbow out.

 

Tousled brown hair, the cutest goddamn puffy eye-bags of the century, sharp nose, and pink chapped lips walks into the pharmacy and Woojin silently wishes for death, because whatever he’s feeling in his chest is not healthy. And he’s pretty darn sure his mother doesn’t sell a drug that stops an increased heart rate, loss of breath, and spike in body temperature.

 

The boy’s eyes glosses over the various containers and glass bottles lining the shelves before they settle on Woojin, more specifically the sweat droplet trailing down the side of his face despite the air con blasting right in front of him.

 

How unattractive, Woojin laments.

 

 

“Hey there.”

 

 

Wow, cute boy’s voice is so soft and gentle, Woojin could melt in a fluffy pool of it.

 

 

“H-hey yourself,” his voice wobbles, and he spots the small smirk that the brunet boy doesn’t hide.

 

 

“Is there something I can help you with?” Woojin gets his shit together and discreetly wipes away the droplet of sweat. He switches on his retail voice, hopefully distracting his customer from what occurred a few seconds before.

 

 

“Well, my mother has caught the flu, and as the filial son I am, have ventured out to purchase her some medication to treat her ailment,” the boy announces triumphantly, as if he deserves an award for being a decent human being.

 

 

“Hmm, well we have your standard Panadol, if your mother has a lot of phlegm we also have Rikod-”

 

 

“Can I also purchase something for my pounding headache?”

 

 

Woojin is interrupted by the unexpected question and he furrows his eyebrows at the brunet’s random request. He looks particularly perky for something with a pounding headache.

 

 

“I mean I guess, this is a pharmacy after all, we have Panadol or Panadeine-”

 

 

“Because I think you’ve been running in my head all day.”

 

 

Woojin is, again, rudely interrupted and can’t mask the deadpan expression he’s aware is _very_ present on his face.

 

The doe-eyed boy blinks with ridiculously pretty eyelashes and has the audacity to lean his head in his palms, elbows on the counter at a dangerously close distance to Woojin.

 

Woojin’s too tired to deal with this boy’s shameless flirting (even if he’s unfairly cute).

 

 

“So, card or cash?” 

 

 

Said shameless flirter’s eyes open a little wider at Woojin’s reply before pouting, with those _goddamn pink chapped lips_. 

 

‘Would you like to try out some Chapstick as well, sir?’ Woojin’s tempted to say.

 

 

“You’re not going to treat my headache? It’s technically _your_ fault.”

 

 

Are. You. Kidding. Me.

 

Park Woojin is so close to kicking this boy out of the establishment, not even caring about the lost profits, as long as he gets this sleazy boy out of his sight.

 

 

“Do you want to cure your mother or not? I will personally remove you if you don’t make a decision in five seconds,” Woojin tries to sound threatening, but he accepts defeat when he spots a twinkle in the other’s eyes.

 

 

“That doesn’t sound too bad actually,” the boy winks and it simultaneously sends something tingly up Woojin’s spine and makes him almost throw up in his mouth.

 

 

“I’m going to get someone else to serve you, I can’t believe you just _said_ that…” Woojin’s voice trails off as he turns away from the counter, just about to stalk into the back room and feed a complaint about the good-looking customer before the boy yells something along the lines of ‘sorry!’

 

Woojin halts and gives the boy a side eye (not that the boy could tell anyway, Woojin’s never been good at being passive aggressive, he’s more... _just_ aggressive).

 

 

“I’m sorry, I was just messing with you... Woojin?” 

 

 

Woojin wonders how on Earth he managed to figure out his name, and he scowls when he spots the name tag sitting on the top of his pocket (his mother’s attempt to make him look like an actual employee). He walks back to the counter and sees the boy fish out notes and coins, as well as lolly wrappers and a pair of neon shoelaces (why does he carry spare shoelaces, when he’s wearing thongs? Let alone, neon? Woojin thinks before internally sighing and silently accepting the fact that the boy with the cute hair was as strange as he was flirty).

 

 

“That’ll be 25 000,” Woojin doesn’t meet eyes with the other male. “And 4000 won,” he adds, still avoiding all eye contact with the boy, his right hand outstretched to receive the money.

 

 

“4000 won? But isn’t the Panadol only 25 000 won? I swear I’m not buying the Panadeine, which wouldn’t even be 4000 won anyways-” the boy’s forehead creases in confusion, his dark brows peeking from under his bangs.

 

 

“4000 won for bothering me on the first day of summer break, on a job I’m not getting paid for,” Woojin still can’t look the opposite boy in the eye but he senses a grin appearing on his face through his peripheral view.

 

 

“Hm, what if I pay you that 4000 won _and_ treat you to something as well?” the brunet suggests and Woojin pinches himself for not thinking his petty plan through.

 

 

“Come on Woojinie, ice-cream sounds good when there’s sweat trailing down your neck, doesn’t it?” Woojin cringes and bites in the inside of his cheek in regret.

 

 

“You know what, forget about the 4000 won, I too, was just messing with you-”

 

 

“No! Let me treat you, I was being a prick I’m sorry.” 

 

 

Woojin sees a hint of genuine apology in the other’s eyes and relents (albeit a little too easily, but this is free food and a considerably good-looking guy as a bonus we’re talking about, he’d be even more crazy for turning the opportunity down).

 

 

“Fine, if this means I get my cash and a waffle cone of choc chip cookie with big cookie chunks for the inconvenience you caused me, I’ll do it,” Woojin replies and the guy actually smiles from ear to ear, his eyes crinkling in the most adorable way, and Woojin’s weird symptoms resurface.

 

 

“Sounds great to me. The name’s Park Jihoon, but you can call me Jihoonie if you want to, Woojinie,” Jihoon says with another wink and Woojin hides his reddening cheeks behind the paper bag holding Jihoon’s purchase.

 

 

“See you in front of Wannabe Ice-cream at two tomorrow. Don’t stand me up, I swear-” Woojin almost tries to threaten the sneaky boy again but he stops at the sight of Jihoon’s index finger incredibly close to his lips.

 

 

“Do not fear, I wouldn’t ever leave you alone Woojinie, see you!” Jihoon waggles his finger in front of Woojin’s mouth before saluting the redhead. He’s more baffled at how natural ‘Woojinie’ came out of the other’s mouth before the automatic doors open with a squeak and Jihoon leaves, one neon yellow shoelace hanging out of his pocket.

 

 

Woojin stands behind the counter, completely dumbfounded and slightly intrigued by Park Jihoon. 

 

-

 

**_/woothepoo has changed the chat name/_ **

**_the hoe-mones (plus woojin?)_ **

 

**_daethebae_ **

_what h APPENED_

 

**_dongie_ **

_ohohoHoOHHOhHOhoHOh_

 

**_yvngmin_ **

_same_

 

**_woothepoo_ **

_time flies and b4 i know it_

_i have an ice-cream_

_outing (date?) with a customer_

 

**_daethebae_ **

_n O WAY SHUT UP_

_YOU DID NOT JUST-_

_did i jinx myself with_

_the ‘i’ll shout when_

_woojin hyung gets himself_

_a man’_

 

**_yvngmin_ **

_well well well_

 

**_dongie_ **

_fate’s never late_

_my friend_

 

**_woothepoo_ **

_wish me luck lol_

_my heart started_

_beating fast and_

_i kinda lost breath_

 

_i think i’m sick_

_and my mother_

_is a pharmacist_

_what do_

 

**_dongie_ **

_oh buDDY_

_you’re in loOoOOoVE_

 

**_yvngmin_ **

_i thought our woojinie_

_here wasn’t capable of_

_such complex emotions_

 

**_woothepoo_ **

_hEY >:(_

 

**_daethebae_ **

_for once, i agree with_

_youngmin hyung_

 

**_yvngmin_ **

_wow i didn’t know_

_that was possible_

 

_asshat_

 

**_daethebae_ **

_/blows kisses/_

 

**_dongie_ **

_anyways back to_

_woojin getting /some/_

 

**_woothepoo_ **

_gosh we’re not geTTING IT_

_ON !!!!! he was annoying_

_me and i, being the petty_

_ass i am, wanted to charge_

_him an extra 4000 won_

 

_and then he took my_

_plan and tore it to shreds by_

_offering me free ice cream_

_instead_

 

**_dongie_ **

_how aDORable (_ ●♡∀♡ _))_ ヾ☆ _*_ 。

 

**_yvngmin_ **

_that’s got 2 be a plot_

_for a young adult novel_

_something john green-esque_

_minus the terminal illnesses_

 

_like what daehwi reads on_

_wattpad_

 

**_daethebae_ **

_do you wanna square up_

_hyung i know you bought_

_rainbow rowell’s_

_newest book don’t lie_

 

**_dongie_ **

_oHohOhOhohOHohOH_

 

**_woothepoo_ **

_well well well_

 

**_yvngmin_ **

_how did_

 

**_daethebae_ **

_WELL keep us posted about_

_your new flame woojinie_

_hyung!!!!!!!!!_

 

**_dongie_ **

_^^ !!!!!!_

 

**_yvngmin_ **

_i’m changing my_

_paypal password_

_you little shit_

 

-

 

Park Jihoon swore that he would _try_ to keep his greasy mouth shut until he started at his new school, but alas, things don’t unfold the way he expects.

 

His mother’s coughing fit wakes him up that sweltering Saturday morning and being the considerate son he is, Jihoon decides to venture out into his new suburb and buy medicine.

 

Using Google Maps and being promptly confused at the inconsistent position of the arrow, he makes his way, after a few wrong turns to one of the pharmacies in town. 

 

‘Park’s Pharmacy’ is one of the biggest he’s seen, with its pristine blue and white walls and modern automatic sliding doors, surprisingly without the alarm that sings an annoying tune along the lines of ‘Welcome!’ that gets stuck in his head for hours on end. 

 

He makes a step forward and the sliding doors open with a little creak, and he’s welcomed by a blast of cold wind that he hasn’t experienced since he moved to Busan. Glass bottles and packages of all shapes and sizes line the metal shelves and he looks over them, trying to pinpoint the cough medicine aisle before his eyes lay on the shockingly handsome boy around his age at the counter. 

 

Sweat trickles down the tanned boy’s neck (rather _erotically_ , Jihoon thinks) and he can tell the boy is shocked at his presence as he jolts up almost instantaneously and winces at the crick in his neck.

 

Jihoon can’t help the quirk that appears at the edge of his lips before he saunters up to the counter.

 

 

“Hey there,” Jihoon holds back the urge to wink at the flustered boy (who’s wearing a thin tank top, flexing his exceptionally defined biceps, honestly _Jihoon_ should be the one that’s flustered).

 

 

“H-hey yourself,” the tanned boy replies back and Jihoon smiles at the cute stammer.

 

 

“Is there something I can help you with?” the boy says, no stutter this time, and Jihoon’s all too ready to present his case.

 

 

“Well, my mother has caught the flu, and as the filial son I am, have ventured out to purchase her some medication to treat her ailment,” Jihoon finishes off with beaming cheeks but the boy behind the counter is unfazed.

 

 

“Hmm, well we have your standard Panadol, if your mother has a lot of phlegm we also have Rikod-”

 

 

Jihoon can’t stop himself.

 

 

“Can I also purchase something for my pounding headache?” he asks, blinking his eyes and the redhead gives him a strange look, before pondering for a minute.

 

 

“I mean I guess, this is a pharmacy after all, we have Panadol or Panadeine-” he begins and Jihoon thinks that this is the moment.

 

 

“Because I think you’ve been running in my head all day.”

 

 

The employee looks close to punching him in the face, but alas Park Jihoon doesn’t know how to quit. He blinks his long eyelashes, leaning his elbows on the counter, and the boy exhales sharply.

 

 

“So, card or cash?” the other boy says.

 

 

‘He’s just going to ignore my advances?’ Jihoon pouts, but again, he really can’t stop himself.

 

 

“You’re not going to treat my headache? It’s technically _your_ fault,” Jihoon’s aware that he sounds about five years old, but he’ll try a hell of a lot of things to woo the cute boy opposite him.

 

 

“Do you want to cure your mother or not? I will personally remove you if you don’t make a decision in five seconds,” the redhead sighs again and Jihoon is having too much fun bugging him.

 

 

“That doesn’t sound too bad actually,” he winks and the boy opposite him gives him an agitated stare.

 

 

“I’m going to get someone else to serve you, I can’t believe you just _said_ that…” the boy spins on his heel and makes his way to the back of the store and Jihoon realises that it’s time to stop.

 

 

“I’m sorry!” Jihoon yells, and the boy stops mid-step, tilting his head to the side and Jihoon can’t tell if there’s something in the guy’s eye or if he’s glaring at him.

 

 

“I’m sorry, I was just messing with you...Woojin?” Jihoon peeks at the name tag on the boy’s pocket and he spots the confusion in Woojin’s eyes before he realises that he has a name tag on. He frowns a little, and Jihoon finds it adorable.

 

 

Woojin puts the medicines in a brown paper bag as Jihoon pulls his whole house out of his pockets. His neon shoelaces almost fall out as well as his lemon sherbet wrappers before he finds the proper notes to pay. He flashes the boy a sheepish smile as he places all of his crumpled notes and coins onto the counter and attempts to shove everything else into his pocket.

 

 

“That’ll be 25 000.” Woojin hesitates and Jihoon scrunches his nose as he fiddles with the money on the counter. “And 4000 won,” the redhead’s gaze wandering everywhere but Jihoon. He pushes the right notes into the other’s hand, but his hand hovers over his coins.

 

 

“4000 won? But isn’t the Panadol only 25 000 won? I swear I’m not buying the Panadeine, which wouldn’t even be 4000 won anyways-” Jihoon is confused to say the least. Isn’t tax included in the price? But 4000 won isn’t even ten percent-

 

 

“4000 won for bothering me on the first day of summer break, on a job I’m not getting paid for,” he adds and Jihoon looks up at Woojin, a grin gradually forming on the edge of his lips as he tries to meet eyes with the boy who’s determined on not looking at him.

 

 

This just might be the perfect opportunity.

 

 

“Hm, what if I pay you that 4000 won _and_ treat you to something as well?” Jihoon proposes, a slight lilt to his voice and the employee is speechless.

 

 

“Come on Woojinie, ice-cream sounds good when there’s sweat trailing down your neck, doesn’t it?” Jihoon flutters his eyelashes teasingly, and he spies the instant embarrassment washing over Woojin’s face as both their minds flash back to his perspiration. 

 

 

“You know what, forget about the 4000 won, I too, was just messing with you-”

 

 

“No! Let me treat you, I was being a prick I’m sorry,” No matter how much Jihoon wants to desperately ask the boy out, he admits that he was being a twit in the process.

 

 

Woojin looks at him with something unreadable but something in him gives in as his body deflates and Jihoon couldn’t be happier. 

 

 

“Fine, if this means I get my 4000 won and a waffle cone of choc chip cookie with big cookie chunks for the inconvenience you caused me, I’ll do it,” Jihoon listens intently to Woojin’s ice-cream order and grins at the specificities.

 

 

“Sounds great to me. The name’s Park Jihoon, but you can call me Jihoonie if you want to, Woojinie,” Jihoon can’t help but wink again and he doesn’t miss the boy’s flushed cheeks that he tries to hide in vain behind Jihoon’s paper bag.

 

 

“See you in front of Wannabe Ice-cream at two tomorrow. Don’t, don’t stand me up, I swear-” Jihoon gestures the boy to shush with his index finger in front of the other’s mouth.

 

 

“Do not fear, I wouldn’t ever leave you alone Woojinie, see you!” He waggles his finger for extra measure before saluting the dumbfounded redhead and leaving the pharmacy.

 

 

It’s not until Jihoon gets home and gives his mother medicine and a cup of a water that he realises his shoelace was hanging out of his pocket the whole time.

 

 


	2. walk you home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleazy McSleazebag buys Bicep Boy the ice-cream cone, and it comes with an additional wave of warm feelings.

**_(3) new messages from the hoemones (incl. woojin FINALLY)_ **

 

**_daethebae_ **

_gl today woojinie hyung!!!_

 

**_dongie_ **

_have fun and don’t_

_be nervous, it’s just_

_an oUtInG_

 

**_yvngmin_ **

_woojinie my dude_

_don’t stress it you’ll_

_have heaps of fun!!!!_

_\+ free ice-cream who_

_loses_

 

Woojin smiles at the messages he receives in the morning (teetering on afternoon) and reminds himself to reply to them once he’s out of the house.

 

His sister’s Screamo rendition of DNA wakes him up this time instead of his mother and he reminds himself to invest in sound-cancelling headphones.

 

He manages to brush his teeth with only a minor streak of toothpaste on his t-shirt this time. Woojin doesn’t want to believe it, but Jihoon might just be his lucky charm.

 

He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself but the charming boy with his neon shoelaces and chapped lips has got him feeling something strange and even though he is still a Certified Oaf when it comes to anything mildly romantic, Park Woojin has a niggling feeling that this might be something akin to it. He’s not sure whether he should be afraid, or welcome the foreign sensation with open arms. 

 

Selecting a black t-shirt from his wide range of, black t-shirts, a pair of (also) black shorts, and a Nike windbreaker (because it’s genuinely windy, and he wants to give off an Athleisure Vibe, whatever the hell that means), he looks at himself in the mirror, twisting and turning to see if his ass looks big (important!) or if his shorts are saggy at the waist (also important!).

 

He tousles up his washed red hair, whipping at it furiously with his towel, before shovelling it all under a cap. Air-dried hair is the new thing but he looks like a wet dog, so under a hat it is.

 

After he puts on a belt as well, Woojin thinks he looks good enough for his _outing_ with (unfairly good-looking) Sleazy McSleazebag and is just about to leave when he hears his sister yell out something unintelligible.

 

 

“You what?!” Woojin yells back, and deciphers something about ‘get some ass my brother,’ and ‘please can you get me a passionfruit sorbet in a cone thank you I love you oppa.’

 

 

He only listens to the last sentence.

 

 

-

 

Jihoon stares for a considerably long time at his phone, as the arrow pinpointing where he is spirals out of control, before the app effectively crashes and he’s left staring into the sun, pondering why life is so difficult. However, someone comes to his rescue.

 

 

“Jihoon? What are you doing over there, that’s the wrong direction,” a familiar voice calls out and Jihoon whips his head around to spot someone wearing an all-black outfit with tufts of red hair peeking out of the sides of a baseball cap beckoning him to come over.

 

 

Woojin is totally his lucky charm.

 

 

“What were you even doing down there, it’s only rows and rows of suburban houses and the weird guy that tries to sell newspapers from 1950,” Woojin informs him and Jihoon can only rub the back of his neck with a sheepish smile.

 

 

“I’m kind of new to the area, and Google Maps wasn’t cooperating,” Woojin looks at him in surprise.

 

 

“You’re not from here? Then why do you have _satoori_?” the Busan native (born and raised, Jihoon deduces) questions, looking and sounding completely astounded, as if having a dialect is a rare talent and that Busan is the _only_ place on Earth that you could develop one.

 

 

“I’m from Masan, but my parents needed to do some work here so we moved about three weeks ago,” Jihoon replies as both of them stroll down the pathway, steps matching pace and something tingles up his arm when he brushes fingers with the other.

 

 

The redhead pays no attention to the action and only replies to Jihoon with an understanding hum.

 

 

“And you were okay with moving? What about school? Wait, what year of high school are you in? Are you even still _in_ school?” Woojin rapidly fires questions at Jihoon, who only hears the last one and is very much offended.

 

 

“Bro not cool, of course I’m still in school!”

 

 

Woojin only gives him an awkward smile, his snaggletooth peeking, and Jihoon almost bursts a blood vessel.

 

 

“I’m in my last year of high school,” 

 

 

“Oh same! Does that mean we’re in the same grade, same school maybe?”

 

 

Jihoon might be dreaming but was there an intonation of hope in his voice?

 

 

“If you’re talking about the only high school in a five-kilometre radius, then yes, we’re probably going to the same school, and are in the same grade,” Jihoon watches as the other digests the information, and promptly scowl at himself at not realising the obvious facts earlier.

 

 

“Well, if you need help when school starts, I can try guide you and help you out, or something,” the tanned boy trails off, eyes suddenly trained on his sneakers and Jihoon grins.

 

 

“I’d really appreciate that Woojin,” he catches the small smile that appears on the other’s face and they both flush a rosy pink. It’s the heat, Jihoon swears.

 

 

They arrive at the ice-cream parlour and unsurprisingly, many teenagers have flocked at the same place, lingering around the corners of the store, scrolling on their phones as they wait, or pondering over the chalkboard menu hanging in the front window.

 

 

Jihoon sees Woojin giving small nods and waves of acknowledgement to those who’ve looked up from their screens and spotted the boy. Jihoon doesn’t know if it’s a small-town thing, or Woojin’s just a mighty popular guy.

 

 

“What do you want?” the redhead is about to pull his wallet out of his pocket before Jihoon holds back his wrist, quirking his eyebrows at him.

 

 

“So, you were only joking about the 4000 won?”

 

 

Confusion washes over the slightly taller boy’s face (something that occurs often, it seems) before he realises, and quickly retracts his wrist out of Jihoon’s hold.

 

 

“I-I, forgot,” he mumbles, sliding his wallet back into his pocket and Jihoon pouts, pulling out his wallet instead.

 

 

“Fine, I’ll pay for your waffle cone with choc chip cookie with big cookie chunks,” he rolls his eyes, earning a playful shove from Woojin as they line up.

 

 

“Wait, you’re not getting anything?”

 

 

Jihoon doesn’t want to tell him that he has a family-sized tub of vanilla ice-cream as well as a new drama, all set with twenty episodes and his already broken heart waiting for him at home.

 

 

“Nah, I’m, uh lactose-intolerant,” he immediately regrets it when Woojin gives him a sympathetic ‘oh,’ and an awkward pat on the back.

 

 

The order comes out quite quickly as all of the teens disperse and the two of them are one of the only ones there.

 

 

“I knew that choc chip cookie order sounded familiar!”

 

 

Both boys whip their heads around to see a smiling older man wearing a garish apron printed with ice-creams, with a shock of matching pink hair with dark roots coming out. The man almost resembles a walking ice-cream cone.

 

 

“Hey Daniel hyung!” Woojin replies back, a grin emerging on his face and Jihoon watches the interaction silently before he senses someone’s gaze on him.

 

 

“And who is this cutie? Is this a new friend Woojinie?” the man seems to have a smile permanently etched on his face with additional wiggling brows and Jihoon blushes (it’s got to be the sixtieth time he’s bloomed like a peach today). He’s glad he’s not alone when he spots Woojin’s matching cheeks.

 

 

“Uh, yeah this is Jihoon, he’s new to the area, Jihoon this is Daniel hyung,” Woojin introduces the employee quickly and Jihoon grins when the older man gives him a mock salute.

 

 

“Kang Daniel at your service! You’re like the first friend Woojin has made since Daehwi and that was _ages_ ago!” the elder exclaims and Woojin lets out an embarrassed laugh, immediately looking down at the floor and Jihoon’s mouth curls up in a sly smile.

 

 

“Oh, really now? I’m glad I could add a little spice to Woojinie’s life,” he winks at the redhead, adding more crimson to the tanned boy’s cheeks.

 

 

“Hyung, can I just get my cone, please,”

 

 

Daniel chuckles a little, his eyes drooping down almost like a puppy before he hands a waffle cone to Woojin with a larger than usual scoop balancing on it by a hair.

 

 

“Thank you!” Jihoon bows slightly and Daniel just waves him off before winking with another suggestive eyebrow.

 

 

Jihoon hides a smile with his hand and sends a mock salute in return to the older man while Woojin gives him a half-hearted wave as he licks at his ice-cream meekly, his pace growing quicker to get away from the embarrassing vendor. Jihoon follows suite with a soft chuckle.

 

-

 

“Sorry about Daniel hyung,” Woojin mumbles and the brunet just chuckles.

 

 

“That’s okay, I ended up learning a little more about you thanks to him,” Jihoon grins and Woojin doesn’t know whether that’s a bad or a good thing.

 

 

“In my defence, Daehwi came to Busan two years ago so it hasn’t been _that_ long,” the other boy laughs, his eyes crinkling as a soft sound comes out of his mouth, and Woojin doesn’t exaggerate when it sounds like honey.

 

 

“Well, at least you’ve got me now!” he replies ecstatically and Woojin warms at his enthusiasm. Usually people would not be as excited as Jihoon when it comes to befriending him.

 

 

“Apart from Daehwi, I’m sure you have other friends, right?”

 

 

Woojin wishes he could answer that question with confidence.

 

 

“Uh, well apart from Daehwi, there’s Youngmin hyung and Donghyun hyung, but they’re in university now so they only come back when we have breaks, and even then, Donghyun hyung doesn’t always come with Youngmin because he visits his family in Daejeon instead,”

 

 

The other teen listens intently as Woojin rambles and overshares (classic Woojin) about his friends and before they know it, the sky is coloured deep orange and pink hues and they’ve been sitting on the swings at the park for over two hours.

 

 

“Yeah, and Daehwi’s in the year below us, he’s a massive prick sometimes and annoyingly intelligent, but still surprisingly mature and gives good advice,” Woojin doesn’t mention the fact that the only reason he knows that is because he’s the one who asks for advice the most from the silver-haired boy.

 

 

“Your friends seem really cool Woojin,” Jihoon says idly as they swing their legs lazily, kicking at the dirt, both watching as the clouds conjure hazy shapes in the sky.  

 

 

“Did you have any close friends in Masan?” Woojin’s not too sure why he’s afraid to ask when the boy beside him is the epitome of popular with his angel face and friendly personality.

 

 

“Even though I lived in Masan all my life before Busan, we were always moving to wherever was closer to my parents’ work anyways, so I either didn’t have time to properly make friends, or couldn’t be bothered,” Jihoon’s tone is indifferent but Woojin can almost hear the sadness laced in between.

 

 

“Well, you have me now, and maybe, if you’d like, you could meet my other friends too? Granted there’s only like three of them, I’m sure you guys would get along just fine-”

 

 

“That’s really nice of you Woojin, I’d love that,” the shorter boy interrupts, a gentle smile gracing his face and Woojin closes his mouth, catching his breath in the process.

 

 

“Well, I’ll just, um-” Woojin wonders if this is the part where he either has to send a carrier pigeon to Jihoon’s house tomorrow with a piece of paper attached to its ankle, or grow some guts to ask Jihoon for his phone number.

 

 

Lucky for him, Jihoon says it first.

 

 

“You’re going to need my number if you’re going to ask me anything aren’t you,” Jihoon sticks out his palm, and Woojin fumbles with his pockets to find a rectangle shaped bulge in one of them.

 

 

He finally pulls out his battered iPhone 5 and places it in Jihoon’s open hand, but the other gives him a strange look.

Jihoon seems give him a lot of those looks, and half the time Woojin doesn’t realise what he’s done until an embarrassing amount of time later.

 

For example, now.

 

 

“I really like your Chungha wallpaper, but you’re gonna have to put your password in for me, unless we’re already at that stage where you’ll tell me your password and as well as the answers to your security questions-”

 

 

“Okay okay! Just give me-” Woojin burns a bright red at the mention of his Chungha wallpaper and hurriedly stabs in his password (which isn’t Chungha’s birthday, not at all).

 

 

He tries to ignore Jihoon’s unsubtle sniggers as he types it wrong a considerable amount of times due to his shaky fingers, and almost risks locking his phone for five minutes before he gets it right and the phone finally opens the home screen.

 

Exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding, Woojin presses the contacts application and shoves the phone back into Jihoon’s palm.

 

 

“Took you long enough, good lord,” the older boy (he learnt that Jihoon is regrettably, six months older than him) comments as he nimbly types in his number to Woojin’s envy. He can’t type more than five words without having at least ten typos, but Woojin blames it on the small phone screen.

 

 

“Here, text me so I’ll get your number,” Jihoon gives the phone back to Woojin, who gratefully accepts it and slips it back into his back pocket.

 

 

“I’ll see you sometime soon?” Woojin asks, slightly hopeful, and he watches as another smile appears on the brunet’s face as he gives Woojin a familiar mock salute.

 

 

“I’ll see you whenever you hit me up Mr 4000 Won,” Woojin waits for the wink but it never happens because the brunet _blows a goddamn kiss_ before sauntering his way home.

 

 

Park Woojin doesn’t know exactly how he feels about Jihoon but if the heat that creeps up his face and the smile that inches its way towards his lips is anything to go by, the friendship (or whatever they have) is worth keeping.

 

 

-

 

Park Jihoon hasn’t been staring at his phone for the past two hours, definitely not.

 

The afternoon left as soon as it came, and by the time Jihoon made it home (successfully without Google Maps), he was left almost missing the redhead’s company.

 

Instead of being a quick ten minute ‘hey here’s your ice-cream, let’s part ways now,’ it went for way longer and he simultaneously learnt so much more about Woojin (and his friends) as well as about himself.

 

Even if he knows in extensive details about ‘Youngmin hyung’s confession to Donghyun hyung, which was so awkward and cute at the same time, I could’ve thrown up and cooed at them at the same time,’ and other miscellaneous events, he learns more about the tanned boy instead.

 

How he appreciates his friends so much but doesn’t know how to express it and wishes he did a bit more. How he could’ve gotten his snaggletooth fixed in Grade 9 but this one girl he kind of had a crush on said it was cute, so he didn’t (Jihoon ignored the churning sensation in his stomach when Woojin mentioned ‘girl’). How Woojin attends dance school and loves dancing with every might in his body, if the passionate spark in his eyes didn’t say so already.

 

Park Jihoon learns a lot about the Busan native all in the span of two hours, and realises that maybe, just maybe, he might be happier here.

 

Masan was never a ‘home’ home, it was just a physical home, where he ate and slept and nothing more. Even though everything is almost the same, to his parents still not being home as much as he’d like them to, to the furniture, just shifted to another city, he already feels more at home than he ever did before.

 

Maybe it’s the idea of having a fresh beginning, though Jihoon’s experienced many of those before, or maybe it’s the endearing redhead with the snaggletooth.

 

Jihoon’s never been one to grow emotional bonds, but something about what just happened (treating a total stranger ice-cream, to talking until the sun went down, something like that) sends a surge of warmth up his face and sets off a dizzying sensation in his chest.

 

-

 

**_unknown number_ **

_hey man, it’s woojin_

_i know it’s only been a day_

_since we saw each other_

_but my friends and i_

_are going for burgers tmmr_

_afternoon_

_you down?_

**_-_ **

****

**_jihoonie the cutie <3_ **

_definitely!_

_are you going to pick me up ;-)_

_-_

**_mr 4000 won_ **

_forget it you’re uninvited_

**_mr 4000 won_ **

_i’m kidding txt me ur address i’ll_

_come by_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! i'm sorry this chapter was a lot of dialogue (which i'm not good at writing..) and kind of a filler, i'll hopefully come out with something better next week :'))
> 
> comment some tips on how to write dialogue and incorporating descriptive language at the same time? also i need new names for woojin and jihoon apart from 'redhead', 'tanned boy' and 'brunet' D:


	3. i still remember your eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McSleazebag comes with many surprises, Bicep Boy realises, including a free car therapy session and an incredibly skill in consuming spicy burgers.

Park Jihoon grudgingly admits that he _leapt_ out of bed this morning with a big grin, teeth and all, already etched on his face.

 

 _Nothing_ ever makes him happy in the morning, ever.

 

Except maybe Park Woojin.

 

He wakes up with such a flourish that even his father questions the pep in his step when he skips his way down the stairs.

 

 

“Something good happen this morning?” his father squints at his watch, realising that eight in the morning is a record for his son before looking back at Jihoon, slight concern and curiosity in his eyes, but the concern disappears when Jihoon replies with a small grin tugging on his lips.

 

 

“Just meeting a friend, Dad,” his father smiles warmly at him, eyes crinkling, emphasising the wrinkles around his mouth, and something warm bubbles in Jihoon’s stomach.

 

 

“Oh, I’m glad you’re making friends son, make sure you tell your mother when to pick you up,” Jihoon only smiles, knowing full well that his mother won’t be able to pick him up, let alone come home before her official work hours end, not accounting for the likely overtime hours that she’ll do just to get those papers signed.

 

They eat their breakfast in comfortable silence before his father goes to work with a small wave and Jihoon sees him out, waving back.

 

He suddenly remembers how nice it is to eat with his parents. Although the three of them (not counting his older brother in Seoul) never seem to be in the same house for more than five hours a day, the small talk and experiencing the proper presence of each other is enough to make Jihoon content.

 

Jihoon is almost positive that he’s racked up at least ten thousand steps on his (slightly dubious) pedometer app as he completes some overdue housework, even though his house looks barely-lived in at all. His parents seem to create little to no laundry or dishes, and most of the mess he has to clean up is his own, which accounts for the two plates he used for fruit, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and an odd spoon.

 

It’s already 11:30 when he finishes up and Jihoon distinctly remembers Woojin texting him to be ready by 12:30 (‘or we’re leaving with you in your boxers and godforsaken neon shoelaces’). Almost tripping over his own feet as he sprints up the stairs in despair, Jihoon yells at himself internally for leaving such little time to get ready (those darn sing-a-long Youtube videos!). Knowing himself, he’ll probably take forty-five minutes to pick an outfit (a combination at least one pink item, and whatever shirt looks clean to him in the spur of the moment) plus an additional thirty minutes to work his hair into something that’ll be allowed outside, and maybe make Woojin fall head over heels in love with him. The latter is unlikely but Jihoon doesn’t ~~know how to~~ give up.

 

Jihoon gives himself a good once-over before a small sigh escapes his lips, his eyes gazing up and down the mirror. Despite going for the Monochromatic Look (Woojin’s favourite, Jihoon has deduced), which should be foolproof, it’s so _black_ that Jihoon can’t resist unlacing both his sneakers to weave in his neon yellow ones. But before he can even reach for them, the doorbell rings and Jihoon flies out of his room instantly.

 

 

He opens the door and lets out a low whistle when he sees McDreamy standing on his doorstep. Park Woojin isn’t clad in full black this time and has instead, opted for an oversized white long-sleeved tee with gothic text on the sleeves, paired with denim shorts and white trainers. It’s a Whole Boyfriend Look and Jihoon almost hates how good it looks on the younger boy.

 

 

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” he waggles his brows, only to be promptly rejected when Woojin only rolls his eyes and gestures to the car with a grunt before walking without him. Jihoon quickly shuffles into his own pair of white trainers (an attempt to ‘accidentally’ match shoes) and jogs up to the other teenager, breaking out into the slightest sweat, to his utter embarrassment.

 

 

“You won’t even wait up for your plus one?” he huffs out and Woojin halts abruptly and sticks out his palm.

 

 

“Need me to walk you to my car sweetie? I know it’s a good fifty centimetres away but I can hold your hand, darling,” Woojin drawls and Jihoon fights the blush spreading across his face. “I can even dab away the sweat gathering at your hairline too,” Jihoon gives the younger a shove and Woojin lets out a hearty laugh, his snaggletooth making an appearance again and Jihoon doesn’t even try to hide his red cheeks.

 

 

“Just drive the goddamn car,” the brunet slides into the passenger seat with a scowl on his face that doesn’t quite match his rosy complexion and the redhead only smirks before taking his keys out of his pocket. There are a few questionable Japanese animated girl keychains hanging from them but Jihoon doesn’t question.

 

 

“As you wish princess,” Woojin turns on the ignition before putting a hand behind Jihoon’s headrest, other hand on the steering wheel as he reverses out of the driveway and Jihoon pinches himself to make sure he isn’t dreaming. It’s no lie that he has a thing for boys who drive (he used to read ‘girly confessions’ on Instagram in eighth grade, sue him) and the fact that one of his fantasies is being re-enacted right in front of him is almost too good to be true.

 

 

“Sorry, I know it’s hot but the AC in this car is jacked up after a friend sneezed and potato chips shards flew from his mouth, into the vent,” Jihoon hears a curse that sounded a lot like ‘Seonho that prick,’ as Woojin makes a turn into a populated street and he watches in awe as a few thousand people crowd around a theatre at the end of the street. Woojin spots Jihoon’s open mouth and lets out another grunt.

 

 

“One of those fansign things again, Wanna Do? Or is it Wanna 101-“

 

 

“You mean Wanna One? The hottest boy band of the year basically? The National Producer’s picks? Did you just hibernate from April to June-”

 

 

“The name just escaped me! I would have to be extra-terrestrial to not to know who they are, God you don’t even _know_ how much Daehwi talks about them, especially that Baejin or whoever the heck-” the redhead rants and it sounds awfully like an older brother complaining about that Weird Thing their younger sibling is into. It’s endearing and awfully cute.

 

 

“I think Daehwi and I will get along just fine,” Jihoon doesn’t miss the eye roll the younger makes as he turns into the carpark of a diner and they both unclick their seatbelts before getting out of the car.

 

 

The carpark isn’t full, only an odd motorcycle parked in a space too big for its size as well as a dingy hatchback that has seen better days parked inside. Jihoon couldn’t be more excited.

 

 

“Welcome to my second home,” Woojin pushes open the door and Jihoon’s face already lights up at the sight of retro red leather seats and neon signs. Old school advertisement posters line every wall of the establishment and there’s even a jukebox hiding in the corner. Oh heavens, he’s in love.

 

 

Before the brunet can even explore the bathrooms, he’s ushered by Woojin to a secluded booth just by the window. Three males (Jihoon makes an educated guess that they’re the DongPaca couple, and Daehwi) are sat in the booth, drinks in their hands and a familiar stream of anxiety skitters over his skin as they get closer. However, there’s a reassuring squeeze and Jihoon locks eyes with Woojin, whose hand managed to slip into his and the younger smiles at him.

 

 

‘You’ll be okay,’ the redhead mouths and his worries dissipate instantly as they both slide into the seats and Jihoon is welcomed by friendly smiles.

 

 

“You must be Jihoon, Woojin’s newest friend since third grade, hi I’m basically his dad, Youngmin,” another redhead with defined cheeks and warm hazel eyes introduces himself with a warm handshake and he can already feel heat bouncing off Woojin’s cheeks as his other friends follow suit.

 

 

“Hi, I’m Donghyun, Woojin’s unofficial shrink!” the energy and smiles from the caramel-haired male are almost contagious and Jihoon internally coos at the heart eyes Youngmin makes as Donghyun speaks.

 

 

“I’m Daehwi, Woojin’s smart best friend,” a bright-eyed silver-haired boy says, cheeky lilt in his voice. Jihoon likes him already.

 

 

“Well I’m Jihoon, Woojin’s new friend but, hopefully something more?” Jihoon winks at Woojin, fluttering his long lashes and the other teen can’t meet eyes with him without turning the shade of a red pepper.

 

 

“Ooh I like this one Woojinie!” Donghyun pipes in and Daehwi and Youngmin give agreeing nods as they watch Woojin hide his face into his long sleeves. Jihoon’s eyes start to water so he stops the blinking and saves Woojin the embarrassment (or so he thinks) by giving him a punch in the shoulder.

 

 

“Just messing with you Woojinie, your lack of coloured clothing cramps my style,” Woojin’s friends burst into laughter and Jihoon grins. Maybe their common hobby is teasing Woojin.

 

 

“I came here to order a BLT, not a roast fest,” Woojin huffs and Daehwi juts out his upper lip, arms curling around the elder’s.

 

  
“Aw, we can’t _always_ have what we want in life hyung,” the youngest of the boys puts on his best pout, his voice jumping up an octave and Woojin pries the silver-haired boy’s fingers from his arm.

 

 

“Shove off Lee Daehwi,” he gives the younger a stink eye (Jihoon admits that he’s getting better at them) before pulling out his wallet and going up to the counter.

 

 

“You coming Jihoon?” Jihoon shuffles out of the booth and Woojin doesn’t even hesitate as he runs off his order to the cashier.

 

 

“A large spicy beef BLT meal with coke and extra fries please. Jihoon?”

 

 

Jihoon doesn’t even have time to look through the menu that stretches over the wall behind the counter so he says,

 

 

“Uh, I’ll have the same,” Woojin lifts an eyebrow and Jihoon wonders if he’s made a grave mistake.

 

 

“Are you sure you’re going to be able to finish? It’s spicy, and pretty big,” the competitive glint in Woojin’s eyes sparks something in Jihoon.

 

 

“You’re on Park,” he slides money into Woojin’s palm, a devilish grin settling on his face and the redhead only sends a smug grin his way.

 

 

(It’s safe to say that Jihoon comes home with a searing sensation in his stomach and spends way longer than an hour in the bathroom, and he isn’t even playing Animal Crossing this time.)

 

 

But the pain is worth it when he sees Woojin’s jaw drop, eyes widening when Jihoon finishes the last bite of his burger, grinning when their audience let out wild cheers. Jihoon lets out a belching burp and watches as Woojin gets through the last bits of his burger bun, a disheartened look settling on his face.

 

 

“You’re nuts,” the younger mumbles under his breath and Jihoon smirks, patting his stomach.

 

 

“You flatter me babe,” he sends a flying kiss in Woojin’s direction and Youngmin chokes on his drink.

 

 

“I really like him Woojinie hyung!” Daehwi’s compliment prompts a deep sigh from Woojin and he raises his hands in defeat.

 

 

“I surrender,” the redhead grumbles and Donghyun only gives him a sympathetic pat on the back as Jihoon ponders over a prize.

 

 

“Now, what if you treat me to ice-cream this time as a prize? I love a good passionfruit sorbet in a waffle cone,” Jihoon tries the eyebrow wiggle again but Woojin only mutters something that sounds a lot like ‘I lose my dignity and now my money?’ but he ignores it and gives Woojin a kilowatt smile before all four of them start conversing about more important things, like which One Direction member has better solo music.

 

 

“I think Zayn has better songs than Niall!”

 

 

“Oh my God Daehwi, how dare- Have you not listened to the Lord himself, Harry Styles’ album?”

 

 

-

 

They part with Donghyun still fuming at Daehwi for his previous comment (“The Sign of The Times is a musical masterpiece!” Donghyun had yelled, his cries falling onto deaf ears) and the rest of them failing to hold in their snorts.

 

 

 

“It was nice meeting you Jihoon hyung! We should meet up again soon!” Daehwi suggests, jittery with excitement, reminding Woojin of his sister when BTS concert dates were released (to be fair, Woojin squealed with her but that's another story). The silver-haired jumps onto Jihoon, giving him a bone-crushing hug, which ends up bringing the rest of them into a group cuddle. Woojin is positive that his hand is pressed up against somewhere dangerously low on Jihoon’s back and Youngmin’s left cheek is squished up against Donghyun’s, conveniently. But a pleasant sensation rises in his chest as he watches Jihoon throw his head back in laughter when Donghyun lets out an unceremonious burp, eyes crinkling into crescents and cheeks glowing with mirth. They all finally let go when they spot an older lady giving them a strange look, despite her passing them with a trolley full of a questionable amount of canned beans and way more bottles of rice wine that's healthy for one (the close-minded elderly, Woojin thinks). Daehwi drops his grip on Jihoon’s shoulders, letting him breathe and ironically, Woojin almost loses his breath at how the brunet’s eyes twinkle in the sunlight. 

 

After Daehwi squeezes in one more hug, Woojin and Jihoon make their way to the carpark again, their steps in time with each other, hands brushing against each other slightly but enough to send sparks up Woojin’s fingertips. He tries to ignore the heat in the tips of his ears when Jihoon smiles as he opens the car door for him.

 

 

"What a gentleman," Jihoon coos and Woojin tries to brush off the compliment with an unbothered wave of the hand.

 

 

"Trying to keep chivalry alive for our generation Jihoon, don't take it personally," Jihoon pouts but his eyes gleam again when Woojin closes the door for him. 

 

 

Woojin gets into the driver’s seat, putting the key into the ignition and as the car comes to life, something electrifying shoots up his arm and he realises that it’s only Jihoon’s hand skimming over the gear stick.

 

 

“Damn, you drive manual? That’s attractive,” Jihoon mumbles the last part and Woojin isn't being dramatic when he almost slams the brake.

 

 

"U-uh yeah, I wasn't sure if my dad could pull in money for an automatic even though he was set on getting me one for my birthday, so I learnt how to drive stick instead," Woojin says as he squints at the traffic light, gradually pushing his foot on the brake as the light switches to yellow. The afternoon sun bears him no mercy and as the cars in the other lane start to rapidly turn left, Jihoon is silent and Woojin suddenly feels very uncomfortable.

 

 

He musters the guts to look at the boy in the passenger seat, only to see him staring right back at him.

 

 

"That's really considerate of you, Woojin," the brunet says softly and Woojin doesn’t know how to reply.

 

 

“I mean, it was really nothing-”

 

 

“Not every teen our age would do something like that out of their own will, even if it seems something as small as learning how to drive a different type of car.” It’s just Woojin’s luck that they’re at another red light, because he really isn’t prepared for whatever the boy beside him is about to say next.

 

 

But just when he’s about to scramble up words to reply, Jihoon beats him to it.

 

 

“Don’t worry I’m not trying to get into a deep and meaningful conversation and get you to unleash your deepest emotions and fears,” Woojin lets out a stuttered breath and tries to ignore Jihoon’s stifled laugh.

 

 

“I’m just saying Woojin, you’re a considerate and thoughtful guy, you’re almost always thinking of others and watching out for your friends and family. Knowing you for three days was enough for me to notice that about you, and I wish it could’ve taken you the same amount of time to notice that about yourself.” Jihoon’s eyes are trained on the road as he speaks, hands folded in his lap, looking calm and collected whilst Woojin experiences emotions on the far opposite side of the spectrum.

 

 

Woojin’s self-esteem (or lack thereof) is not one of his most favourable subjects to discuss in the car, and it’d make sense that he hasn’t talked to anyone about his internal thoughts and fears for as long as he can remember. It scares him that he doesn’t even _know_ Jihoon yet Jihoon seems to have read Woojin like an open book, front to back. It scares him because it’s true and Woojin’s grip on the wheel starts to slip when he realises that he doesn’t know how to fix this very _real_ problem of his.

 

 

He lets out a silent thanks to the gods as he pulls into Jihoon’s driveway and the elder smiles at him as if he hadn’t laid a whole therapy session on him two seconds ago.

 

 

“I, um, thank you Jihoon, I guess,” Woojin rubs the back of his neck and Jihoon just smiles again with his still-chapped pink lips and darned twinkly eyes.

 

 

“Don’t thank me, I didn’t even do anything,”

 

 

Woojin walks him to the door (still keeping up the chivalry act) and is just about to retaliate but Jihoon cuts him off before he can even open his mouth.

 

 

“Tell me when you’re working at the pharmacy, I’ll pop in and cheer you up, just in case you scare off potential customers with your _terrifying_ stink eye!”

 

 

How dare Park Jihoon diss his only form of intimidation, Woojin ought to show him that his biceps don’t only whip and nae nae, but they beat ass as well. But of course, Jihoon pulls out his million-dollar smile like a sparkly Pokémon card and Woojin’s arms fall lax beside him.

 

 

“See you soon Mr 4000 won!” Before the brunet shuts the door, he sends another one of his damned winks with a flying kiss, leaving Woojin speechless at his doorstep.

 

 

Park Woojin isn’t one to jump to conclusions but when he sees Jihoon with a stupidly cute finger heart next to his cheek as his lockscreen, he should feel mad, or embarrassed at the very least, but instead, his heart starts beating at a ridiculous speed and the blush that never quite left his cheeks comes back in full force.

 

Park Woojin isn’t one to jump to conclusions, but he’s almost positive that he may be just a little whipped for a certain brunet with eyes that sparkle like constellations and pouty lips in the colour of roses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the break! yknow, school life and me losing my will to get through life :)) i hope you enjoy this monster of a fic chapter + i wish i posted yesterday in light of nothing without you akljdhaskjfhakslfjh
> 
> anyways!!! comment your favourite line and maybe your fav song from the album?


	4. we've already come so far (i just quietly waited)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bicep Boy, the son of a chemist, gets sick (how, Sleazebag does not know) and it takes not seeing him for one day that lets Sleazebag realise that maybe, just maybe, he's hopelessly in love.

Jihoon comes to visit Park’s Pharmacy anyway and it becomes a weekly occurrence, even though Woojin doesn’t tell him explicitly what days he’s working. The brunet just seems to strike lucky on all of the days he does decide to pop in.

 

Woojin isn’t a believer in fate, but these coincidences could almost persuade him.

 

He’s serving a middle-aged man with an unfortunate case of the stye when the teenager flounces into the pharmacy, and despite not making a sound, his outfit speaks for him anyway. Jihoon’s body is swallowed up in an oversized jumper the colour of a beetroot, paired with dark green shorts and Woojin doesn’t know if his insides are melting because the brunet looks so small and adorable in the large jumper, or because the shade of it is actually horrid and should be thrown into a fire.

 

 

“I hope your eye recovers quickly sir, thank you for visiting Park’s Pharmacy!” Woojin sends the man off with an eye-patch and eye drops before he addresses the elephant in the room (or the root vegetable, he should say).

 

 

“I thought Halloween was over Jihoon,” the brunet furrows his brows in confusion before glancing at his outfit and scowling.

 

 

“Hey to you too asshole,” Jihoon drops a plastic bag onto the counter and Woojin can already smell the scent of a holy beverage coming from the bag in invisible waves.

 

 

“You’re a blessing you know that?” Woojin’s hand dives towards the earl grey milk tea and Jihoon only rolls his eyes before puncturing the top of his peach green tea perfectly with the straw, to Woojin’s disbelief as tea spurts all over his t-shirt when he stabs at his drink.

 

 

Whilst he tries in vain to get rid of the brown stain on the front of his shirt, Woojin misses the tinge of pink that creeps onto Jihoon’s cheeks.

 

 

“Busy today?”

 

 

Woojin shakes his head as he stacks more Telfast onto the shelves whilst Jihoon wipes down the cash register. The redhead has a habit of snacking and using his greasy hands to operate the machine, to the brunet’s absolute disgust.

 

 

_“You work in a pharmacy, a concept built on hygiene and health! Yet you, Park Woojin, doesn’t sanitise and hands people dirty cash with your gross cheeto dust fingers! I can’t believe you!”_

The cicadas are particularly loud today, and despite the sun hiding underneath the clouds, the air is thick and sweat is no stranger to Woojin, as Jihoon likes to fondly remind him.

 

 

_“Hey, do you think anti-perspirant deodorant works on places other than your pits?”_

_“Uh, I don’t think so? Why?”_

_“Just wondering if you could put yours on your neck-”_

_“Shut up!”_

They work in silence for a while, as Woojin double checks through sales and Jihoon sweeps the floors, whistling the tune of a song on the radio he can’t put a name to.

 

This becomes a norm, no matter how much Woojin protests that the brunet doesn’t need to help out when he visits (even though his mother is almost always putting him on shifts by himself because of ‘life experience Woojinie! You can put this on your resume!’ and he’s ironically, sick of it) and the redhead doesn’t notice how quickly it takes for him to grow accustomed to the elder’s company. Although he can’t ignore the yearning emotions that simmer in his chest every time he sees Jihoon smile, the eighteen-year-old can’t help but feel inadequate for someone as complex, kind and caring as Jihoon. As well as that, Woojin knows he wouldn’t be able to provide the commitment and effort needed for a healthy relationship, and _God,_ he knows Jihoon deserves better.

 

But alas, as Jihoon visits Park’s more often (‘to clean the register,’ he insists) and Woojin invites him out to the diner more often (without the rest of hoemones, to their disappointment), the sensation starts to burn at his chest and he doesn’t know how to douse the growing fire.

 

 

-

 

 

**_the (raging?? confused??) hoemones_ **

****

**_daethebae_ **

_um who’s got the raging confused hormones_

**_dongie_ **

_woojin’s been confiding in me_

_and i thought it’d be a fitting_

_name_

**_daethebae_ **

_did u not think of me_

_your pure small tiny_

_friend_

**_yvngmin_ **

_ok sure daehwi_

_you probably blushed like a_

_tomato when simon and baz_

_kissed in carry on_

**_daethebae_ **

_um how daRE_

**_dongie_ **

_is this some hip_

_reference i’m not getting_

**_woothepoo_ **

_um hello hyung the_

_name change was_

_not n e c e s s a r y_

**_yvngmin_ **

_u sure abt that bro_

_i’ve heard some_

_things and yooo_

_you got it b a d_

_my brother_

**_woothepoo_ **

_um excuse me donghyun_

_hyung, what happened to_

_our privacy AGREEMENT_

**_dongie_ **

_but me and min are_

_basically conjoined at_

_the hip you can’t expect_

_me to noT say anything!!!_

**_woothepoo_ **

_um YEAH I COULD_

_but apparently nOT_

_I EXPECTED BETTER FROM_

_MY ‘UNOFFICIAL SHRINK’_

**_yvngmin_ **

_ok let’s take a ‘digital’_

_breather_

**_daethebae_ **

_i’m going to pretend that_

_woojin hyung didn’t just_

_ignore my role as his smart best_

_friend and didn’t confide in me_

_instead but, donGHYUN HYUNG_

_that’s not cool!!!!!!!!!_

**_yvngmin_ **

_mmm i’m sorry_

_but bad move babe_

_i’m going to omit the fact_

_that you were a little tipsy_

_but still, not a cool move_

_even if you were intoxicated_

**_woothepoo_ **

_hyung is a ranting drunk?????_

_why did no one tell me this_

_earlier?????_

_ALL THIS TIME I TRUSTED HIM_

 

**_dongie_ **

_I’M SORRY FOR MY ACTIONS_

_I SHOULD’VE THOUGHT BEFORE_

_I SPOKE_

_PLS WOOJIN FORGIVE ME_

_I’VE COMMITTED A CRIME_

_i’ll treat you to earl grey milk tea_

_for the next two weeks????_

**_dongie_ **

_why are y’all ignORING MY_

_TEXTS I KNOW YOU GUYS READ THEM_

**_woothepoo_ **

_ok fine._

_but seriously hyungggggg_

**_dongie_ **

_i know i’m sorry woojinie :(((_

_it won’t happen again i_

_swear on my twin brother_

**_daethebae_ **

_are you seriously swearing_

_on your own brother_

_why are you dragging him_

_into your mistAKES_

**_woothepoo_ **

_it’s ok you don’t need to sacrifice_

_taehyun hyung the milk tea was_

_enough_

**_yvngmin_ **

_donghyun being dramatic_

_and extra aside,_

_how are you holding up woojin?_

**_woothepoo_ **

_i’m getting there hyung_

_i’m not quite sure what to do_

_with these f e elings_

_but i’ll figure it out_

_eventually_

**_daethebae_ **

_if this is about you_

_not feeling like you’re_

_enough for jihoon.._

**_dongie_ **

_are you a genius or something_

**_yvngmin_ **

_oh buddy_

**_woothepoo_ **

_ooh i think the postman’s here!_

_gotta jetsiauhd!!!!!!!!!_

**_daethebae_ **

_MAIL DOESN’T COME ON SUNDAYS_

_HAVE YOU NOT READ HARRY POTTER_

-

 

Jihoon’s got it bad.

 

Like catching-feelings-for-your-newfound-best-friend kind of _bad._

Although he flirts and bullshits his way through life, Jihoon can’t bring himself to believe that they’re not such empty words after all when it comes to Park Woojin. Since that fated day at the pharmacy when he tried to charm the redhead’s socks off for the hell of it, Jihoon begins to realise that the teasing comments and stupid winks are starting to reflect his true feelings.

 

Woojin is a messy canvas, Jihoon thinks, splashed with buckets of red, dappled with blue, blotted with deep shades of indigo, with a striking line of black in the middle. He’s passionate about the people and the things he loves, and it’s present in all of his being, from his personality to his actions and provides the base for the art piece that is Park Woojin. The smudged blues reflect the depth of his character because even though he doesn’t _look_ it, Woojin holds so much complexity and loyalty, uncommon in anyone Jihoon has ever encountered before. The indigo hues are his integrity and sincerity for everyone and everything. Although he never explicitly voices out his gratitude, Jihoon sees it in his eyes, the way they twinkle when he’s listening to his friends animatedly talk about their day, when his mum ruffles his hair and presses a kiss into his red locks. He even sees it when Woojin’s messing around with his sister and they’re pulling on each other’s hair trying to see who can tickle each other first. The black smear across the artwork is the barrier the younger puts between himself and people around him. It’s the fear of becoming a burden if the colours spilled out like a cascading waterfall and watching everyone who previously admired the painting slowly walk past, one by one.

 

But Jihoon stays.

 

Befriending Woojin has inadvertently allowed him to see and feel emotions that he’d never thought were tangible. This Busan native with gaudy red hair and a ridiculously endearing snaggletooth has cleared all the pathways, opened all of the doors, and wiped Jihoon’s invisible lenses clean with a microfiber cloth called friendship, and Jihoon is forever grateful for it. For _him._

It’s been two months, bordering on three that Jihoon’s lived in Busan and become friends with Woojin. But an itching sensation in his heart tells him that he’s sinking deeper than just being _friends_. When he sees Woojin’s obnoxious morning texts with five million emojis tacked on at the end, something warm stirs in his chest and a rosy blush tinges his cheeks when he sends a text back, contesting the other teen by using one more emoji than him, inducing a competition that has Jihoon giggling to himself in bed. When Woojin steals fries off his plate when they eat out together in the afternoons, Jihoon feigns anger before he shoves more fries into the unknowing male’s mouth, and they end up feeding each other like an elderly couple, cooped up in the booth near the back of the diner with big, ketchup-smeared smiles on their faces.

 

Woojin is everything Jihoon never expected on what seemed like another ordinary move, and he would do everything under the sun to keep him by his side.

 

Which includes keeping his mouth zipped shut so he doesn’t accidentally slip out an ‘ _God you’re so beautiful, I think I’m in love with you,’_ which he has come scraping close to before.

 

 

‘You can’t lose the only person that means something to you,’ Jihoon thinks to himself resolutely.

 

-

 

It’s a humid Korean summer night when Woojin wakes up with his shirt drenched in sweat, a pounding headache, blocked nose and inflamed throat, fire streaming through his veins instead of blood.

 

He’s no doctor or professional pharmacist by any means, but he has an inkling of a feeling that he may be sick. Woojin can almost hear Jihoon’s shrill voice at the back of his mind.

 

_(“But you’re the son of a chemist, isn’t it impossible for you to get sick?!”_

He replies in his head with _“inherited immunity doesn’t exist dimwit!”_ )

 

 

His mother manages to hear his croaky calls for help and only needs to hover her palm over his forehead before sighing, and Woojin knows far too well that that sigh means ‘bad, but not life-threatening.’ It would be good news, if he didn’t feel like someone was pummelling a music stand into his head (why he imagines that its Daehwi throwing a music stand like a javelin into his brain is another story).

 

 

“That’s a high fever,” she murmurs to herself as she hurries down to the kitchen to grab medicine while Woojin groans and rolls around in his damp bedsheets.

 

 

“You’re not working tomorrow, definitely not,” his mother says to him definitively as she nurses a cold towel to his forehead and even though Woojin feels like he’s being dragged into the fiery pits of hell, his sense of humour still manages to shine through.

 

 

“Oh gee, I was expecting to work an eight hour shift today! What a shame,”

 

 

“Park Woojin, do you think I’d let you infect our whole town just so I wouldn’t need to call in _actual_ employees? I’m offended,”

 

 

His mother always knows how to crack a good joke, Woojin thinks fondly before letting out a dry chuckle. She smiles a little and dabs at the sweat gathering at his neck with another damp towel.

 

 

“When I’m gone, remember to take your meds and drink lots of water and liquids, I’ll bring home hydralytes as well.” Woojin lets out a moan at the thought of the weird diluted purple water.

 

 

“Do you want me to text Daehwi? Or Youngmin?” his mum glances at her watch and Woojin can just spot the sunrise peeking over the horizon from his window.

 

 

“Just text-“

 

 

“I’ve texted both of them, Yerim has dance so she won’t be at home and I don’t trust you to take care of yourself,” his mother taps at her smartphone with speed before depositing it in her pocket.

 

 

“Try and rest up okay? I’ll have some soup over the stove ready for you if you want to eat anything,” she still presses a quick peck into his hair, despite the perspiration dotting at his hairline (it’s kind of gross, but Woojin appreciates the gesture).

 

 

“Bye mum, love you,” he whispers, his throat not allowing him to go any higher and she only smiles back at him and waves back before shutting the door.

 

 

Before Woojin can even text Jihoon that he won’t be at the pharmacy today, his vision goes hazy and the drowsy effects of the medicine start to kick in, his eyelids closing before he can even reach for his phone.

 

-

 

“Park Woojin!”

 

 

“Um, can I help you, young man?”

 

 

A voice that is certainly _not_ Park Woojin replies back and Jihoon meets eyes with a young woman, maybe only a few years older than himself, looking very confused.

 

 

“Woojin not working today?” Jihoon asks quietly, hands fidgeting with a bag holding two milk teas and the woman shakes her head.

 

 

“I’m not sure where he is today, his mother is in the back though, I could ask her if you want-”

 

 

“No!” his own tone shocks himself and Jihoon quickly waves his hands wildly, shaking his head and the poor woman looks even more confused.

 

 

“I mean, it’s nothing you don’t need to bother her for me, I just needed to pick up something from Woojin that’s all!” the brunet quickly says, pulling words out of his ass as he slowly steps backwards, a sheepish smile plastered on his face.

 

 

(‘Yeah, I need to pick up my goddam heart from that idiot,’ Jihoon thinks to himself when he walks back home, Woojin’s earl grey milk tea sloshing around in the cup untouched.)

 

The young woman looks a little less confused and but doesn’t question him (to his absolute relief) when he jets out of the automatic doors.

 

Thoughts start running through Jihoon’s brain as he racks his head for where Woojin could be. Dance? But Daniel would’ve reminded him on Tuesday when they went to eat ice-cream. Daehwi’s or Youngmin’s? But Daehwi would’ve asked him to bring milk tea for them beforehand. What if he wasn’t okay? The taste of anxiety settles in Jihoon's mouth as he subconsciously begins to walk faster towards his home, yet his feet draw him into the direction of Woojin’s.

 

He stops himself before he barges into a stranger’s house, and decides to text Daehwi. If anyone would know where Woojin was, it’d be his smart best friend (although Jihoon knows better).

 

 

**_the better park_ **

_hey dae, do you know where_

_woojin is? he wasn’t at the_

_chemist?_

**_baejin luv3r_ **

_he’s down with a fever and a_

_bit of the flu :((_

_he probably didn’t get to text_

_you hyung do not fret!!!!!_

_he’s sleeping right now but_

_do you wanna come visit_

**_the better park_ **

_omg what_

_yes please_

_could you text me the_

_address??_

-

Jihoon runs until his lungs are on the verge of bursting and finds himself panting at the redhead’s doorstep. At the sight of Woojin’s dirty soccer boots at the door, along with Daehwi and Youngmin’s recognisable sneakers, Jihoon’s pretty sure he’s got the right house but his heart starts to pulsate loudly in his chest as he reaches to knock the door.

One knock, two knocks, three knocks.

And nothing. Maybe he’s wrong, maybe these are someone else’s muddy soccer boots, someone else’s baby blue converses, someone else’s bright red Adidas-

 

“Oh hey hyung, you didn’t get lost!” a familiar voice welcomes Jihoon this time and he looks up to see Daehwi with a small smile on his face. It’s not as bright as it usually is but Jihoon attributes it to Woojin being bedridden and unable to verse the younger in Mario Kart.

 

“I don’t need Google Maps anymore I swear,” Jihoon half-heartedly jokes back but his eyes dart to every surface of the room, as if Woojin would appear from thin air and greet him with a snarky comment.

 

“He’s down this way.” It’s almost as if the younger boy can read his mind as he takes Jihoon’s almost shaky hand in his and leads him down a hallway into a room.

 

The room screams Park Woojin with the figurines and Lego fortresses in the corner, as well as the red headphones and laptop lying dangerously on the edge of his bed. Then Jihoon sees him nestled in his sheets, a feverish hue colouring his cheeks and sweat rolling down the side of his face (not quite as seductive as the last time).

 

He looks so small, bundled up in his sheets and Jihoon sub-consciously stares a little longer before he’s interrupted by an awkward cough.

 

“Uh, hi Jihoon,” Youngmin suddenly appears in front of him, and Jihoon berates himself for not noticing the six-foot male sitting beside Woojin’s bed.

 

“Oh God sorry hi Youngmin hyung,” Jihoon mentally slaps himself for being such a lovesick fool and not noticing the _other_ redhead in the room.

 

“That’s alright, you were probably looking for Woojin,” Jihoon blushes at that and Youngmin only smiles warmly before he makes eye contact with Daehwi, and Jihoon notices a weird eyebrow wiggling message being transmitted between the younger and the elder. It leads to Daehwi huffing in frustration and results in him grabbing Youngmin by the arm, inducing a surprised yelp from the redhead before the silver-haired male smiles sweetly at Jihoon before directing his gaze at the confused elephant (or alpaca, as Donghyun would quip in) in the room.

 

“Oh! Youngmin hyung, didn’t you say Donghyun hyung needed some help getting a birthday present for his mum?”

 

“Daehwi, he left for Daejeon two days ago, you were there-”

 

“See you later Jihoon hyung!”

 

Jihoon watches as the determined teen drags the older male out of the room, and doesn’t miss the fear in Youngmin’s eyes before he’s unceremoniously yanked out of Woojin’s room. And it’s only after he hears the door shut that he lets go, eyes glistening as he kneels next to the bed with his hands finding their way to Woojin’s.

 

“I was so worried, you _dumbass_ ,” Jihoon manages to choke out, fingers flitting towards the sleeping boy’s face, brushing away the matted hair covering his forehead.

 

He feels stupid, crying over a boy who literally has a _cold_ (albeit a little more severe, but technicalities) but it doesn’t get as stupid as when Jihoon realises that he’s ridiculously in love. It’s embarrassing to admit that it takes Woojin to fall violently ill and Jihoon to find himself lost without the other’s presence, but that’s exactly what happens and he doesn’t know what to do with this revelation.

A wheeze interrupts his love crisis.

 

“How are you feeling? God, I was so-”and Jihoon promptly loses it.

 

“Hey Ji, what’s wrong? I’m okay I swear-” Woojin lets out a raspy cough as his arms hold Jihoon’s shaking shoulders and Jihoon isn’t even close to feeling relieved.

 

When Woojin finishes sneezing about seven times and Jihoon finishes up with the last of his sobs, they look at each other properly in the eyes and Jihoon feels like crying again.

 

“What’s up Jihoon? I wake up and you start crying, I don’t know who hurt you but tell them I just wanna talk-”

 

“I’m in love with you,”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know if waiting four weeks is worth reading this chapter but here you go!!! bad chapter organising skills and writing things on the fly is the cause of the delay i'm so sorry, but pls accept this :')) - things get srS and i'm sorry for making 2park so afraid of love (aren't we all inside :'-))
> 
> much love tho for all the comments + kudos, it really makes my day!!!!  
> again, fav line?


	5. if only you remain (it’ll be so bright)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McSleazy and Bicep Boy have their fair share of tears, and their friends daethebae and yvngmin act as messengers for the two lovesick boys.

Before the other can reply or react, Jihoon quickly gets up from the ground, knees weak as he grips the end of his jumper with balled fists.

 

 

“I- Forget I said anything Woojin, please,” Jihoon says, fighting the sob threatening to rise from the back of his throat and he misses the look in the redhead’s eyes that might’ve made him stay as he leaves, shutting the door behind him. The sound of the door clicking shut is enough to drown out the soft ‘Jihoon wait,’ coming from inside.

 

 

_‘Someone would’ve thought that you’d learn from your mistakes,’_

 

 

Screwing up every friendship he’s ever treasured is a habit that truly dies hard, Jihoon thinks to himself as he slides into his sneakers and starts to sprint back home, the soles of his shoes slapping against the concrete in a steady rhythm and it almost distracts him from the calls of his name echoing behind him.

 

Wiping any tell-tale tears from his cheeks, he turns around to see Daehwi and Youngmin right on his heel, confusion clearly written all over their faces.

 

 

“What happened Jihoon hyung? Are you okay-” Daehwi puts a hand on his shoulder and Jihoon shrugs it off, and he catches the unsettled look on the younger’s face. Blinking back the tears, he faces the two concerned males and tries to ignore the sob crawling at the back of his throat.

 

 

“I’m fine, never been b-better!”

 

 

His voice cracking screams the absolute opposite but before Youngmin or Daehwi can say anything mildly comforting or wise, Jihoon waves them off with a ‘I’ll talk to you guys later!’ and starts to run at twice the speed, afraid to say something else and lose more people that he cherishes.

 

Jihoon lies on his bed, tear stains on his cheeks and fingernails raw from biting. It hurts, being the one who falls and breaks too easy. Whether it was back in Masan with the boy who offered to tutor him in maths, the boy who always had his head down in class but always greeted him with kind eyes and a small smile, or the boy from Taiwan who stuck to him like glue. And God, he was always enraptured by their smiles, their actions, their words, and it was enough for him to want something that was more than friends, all three times.

 

Kim Donghan, a student in the year above, who was not only a member of the dance club but had Jihoon wrapped around his finger with his additional sense of humour, patience and kindness towards Jihoon’s inability to solve polynomials, and of course, an incredibly handsome face. It’s a rainy Tuesday afternoon when both of them are in the library, Donghan helping Jihoon out with homework when Jihoon looks the elder in the eyes and suddenly blurts out that he likes him. The ebony-haired male lets go of the pencil in his hand with a guilty expression on his face. And boy, would Jihoon see that face in many more situations.

 

 

“I’m really sorry Jihoon, but I don’t swing that way,”

 

 

Jihoon would play off his candid confession as a joke, saying that ‘he was just grateful for him raising his maths grade by tenfold, the least he deserved was a declaration of love,’ or whatever he said in the moment and the both of them laugh and go on with the equations. But after that rainy Tuesday afternoon, Jihoon would never see the elder in the hallways again.

 

The second, was a boy in the grade below, with the smallest face in existence and a timid personality. Jihoon had only just moved schools and was assigned to the empty seat next to the boy, Bae Jinyoung who was in his English class because of his stellar grades in the (incredibly difficult, in Jihoon’s opinion) subject. What went from Jihoon asking to borrow an eraser, became a friendship that forms over sitting together at lunch under the tree in the soccer field away from the other students in the canteen, an interest in adrenaline sports like paragliding and bungee jumping, and a love for performing. Jihoon showed Jinyoung his popping that he’d been practising recently, and Jinyoung showed him his singing. They shared ice blocks under the tree during the summer with blissed out smiles and laughs, and Jihoon thought that maybe, just maybe, Bae Jinyoung was the one.

 

It isn’t until another rainy afternoon, coincidentally, that Jinyoung pulls him over to the tree and points out to one of the seniors on the field.

 

 

“That’s Hwang Minhyun! He heard me singing in the music rooms and offered to help me with my _talent_ ,” Jihoon hears Jinyoung squeal for the first time ever and the moment that Minhyun spots Jinyoung and waves from the field, hair damp with sweat and soccer uniform clinging to his strong figure, Jihoon sees something pass over the younger’s eyes and it’s the same moment that Jihoon realises that he’s wrong again.

 

 

Just when he thinks he can’t possibly break his own heart again, Jihoon makes his way to the sports hall at his third school to try out for the basketball team when he bumps into another student.

 

 

“I’m sorry! Are you alright, s-sunbae?” the awkward tone inclines Jihoon to lift up his head to face a male who doesn’t look older than him despite his height, and does not even look Korean as a matter of fact.

 

 

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” Jihoon smiles at the student who only fiddles with his fingers and looks scared out of his wits from bumping into an older student. ‘Cute,’ Jihoon thinks to himself.

 

 

“Are you trying out for basketball too? Come, it’s this way,” he beckons the younger student to follow him and Jihoon then learns that his name is Guanlin and he’s from Taiwan, hence the awkward and stiff Korean.

 

 

Jihoon also learns that the boy has a natural talent for basketball, scoring with every throw he makes and gaining quite the reputation for being the secret member of the ‘Generation of Miracles.’ Despite being treated like a god in the playground after the fated try outs, Guanlin insists on sitting with Jihoon at lunch and he feels a familiar sensation coiling in his stomach when Guanlin grins at him one lunch and all of his walls come crashing down. Pillars tumble and stone defences crumble as he tries in vain to distance himself from the Taiwanese boy, yet Guanlin seems to have some sort of radar on him and Jihoon can’t escape no matter how hard he tries. When the taller boy squeezes into the seat next to Jihoon at lunch, either rattling off the newest information about basketball, giddily showing him another MGK song, or begging him to teach him how to pop, Jihoon feels it rushing over his fallen walls, and over him in wave as he drowns in it, unable reach the surface.

 

Guanlin forces his way into Jihoon’s life with ease, his contagious laugh and constant skinship, whether it’s an arm around the waist or peck on the cheek, slices through the weak cage around Jihoon’s heart and it’s another rainy afternoon when Jihoon spots Guanlin running towards him with that _look_ in his eyes, and he feels the waves crash over him like he’s a rock on the edge of a cliff. Jihoon just vividly remembers what the language technique is called (thanks to Jinyoung during English class). ‘Pathetic fallacy,’ he whispers to himself as Guanlin slips an arm through Jihoon’s and talks in rapid Korean and even English about the boy who just joined basketball named Yoo Seonho, who has him giggling and positively love-struck.

 

Jihoon has no idea what fallacy means, but he sure as hell feels pathetic.

 

And of course, the fourth and who Jihoon hopefully thought was the last, Woojin. The boy who’s the same age as him this time around, with a charming snaggletooth and sarcasm that could only rival Jihoon’s own, as well as a passion for dance and strong need to protect his family and friends from all harm, even if it means hurting himself. Jihoon falls in love with the biceps first (who wouldn’t, really now), but that slowly turns into the boy’s caring and welcoming personality, especially towards him, the guy who just moved in and annoyed the hell out of him on the first day of the summer holidays. Then it snowballs, with all of Woojin’s qualities and quirks building on top of each other, from his addiction to BLTs and how easily he gets embarrassed, to his competitiveness and teasing, which Jihoon pretends he hates, but it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy in the chest, his ever-present blush making it all too obvious.

 

But this time, the feeling is much stronger, churning in his stomach and tight in his chest, crashing over him like he’s the face of the cliff this time, and it just hurts that much more.

 

He already knows that Woojin is into girls, from that girl in Year 9 who thought his snaggle was cute, hell even from his phone password, yet he still said _it_ for some stupid reason, and now he’s the reason for another loss of a friendship, a bond he truly treasured and wanted to maintain, what he failed to do with the others.

 

Jihoon lies on his bed, a fresh set of tears gathering at his eyes and with a stuttered breath, he lets the sobs out again, crying for what seems like the millionth time today and by some miracle, he falls asleep, just missing his phone lighting up and vibrating with ‘mr 4000 won’ listed as the caller ID.

 

-

 

 

“Park Woojin, what the hell just happened,”

 

 

Daehwi, with Youngmin in tow, storms back into his bedroom, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. Woojin, still unable to process what just happened himself, props his body up with his elbows, coughing a few more times before he clears his throat, and attempts to explain what just occurred.

 

 

“I woke up and saw Jihoon kneeling beside the bed, and he was holding my hand before he started crying and I had no idea what was happening,”

 

 

Then he coughs _again_ , before he lays it on them.

 

 

“Then I thought someone had said something about him or done something to make him cry, but then he told me he _loved_ me,”

 

 

Both Daehwi and Youngmin gasp, and Woojin holds his head in his hands, running his fingers through his matted hair as his friends look at each other, jaws unhinged from their mouths.

 

 

“Then what did you say back?!”

 

 

Woojin braces himself for the younger’s wrath when he replies.

 

 

“I- I didn’t say anything back,”

 

 

Youngmin, who was silent for the most part, just shakes his head with a disappointed look in his eyes, and Woojin feels like he just ran over a puppy.

 

  
“I can’t believe you- hyung! You could’ve said anything, anything! Maybe that you feel the same way?!” Daehwi erupts, his dark brows rising higher than Woojin’s ever seen them and eyes ignited with something angry.

 

 

“I called for him, but my voice was too soft and croaky,” Woojin defends himself weakly, but he doesn’t need to look up to see his friends’ unimpressed gazes.

 

 

“Even if I feel the same way, I don’t know if I can give him everything that he deserves,”

 

 

Woojin feels his throat close up, not because he needs to cough, and both of their gazes soften before Daehwi kneels beside his bed.

 

 

“You guys make each other so happy, in fact I haven’t seen you so happy ever in the three years we’ve been best friends Woojin hyung,” the younger tugs Woojin’s hand from his face and squeezes it with a small smile.

 

 

“You’re Park Woojin, the boy who swears to protect everyone he loves, the boy who never fails to make everyone around him laugh with a weird antic or crappy joke, and the boy who makes Jihoon ridiculously happy, maybe happier than he’s ever been.” Youngmin says and Woojin knows for a fact that his eldest friend can’t lie for his life, but he can’t bring himself to believe his words in their entirety.

 

 

“Don’t even think for a second that you’re not enough for Jihoon, because you are so much more than you think you are Woojin,” the elder sits next to his bed and ruffles his hair affectionately.

 

 

“You’re my best friend Woojinie hyung, I want the best for you and the best doesn’t include hiding from your feelings and letting someone you treasure fall from your fingertips,” Daehwi grips his hand just a little tighter and Woojin feels something moist prick at his eyes.

 

 

“What did I do to deserve my hypemen,” he tries to joke, only to hide his head in his hands as silent tears roll down his cheeks, body shuddering as quiet cries cut the thin silence of the room.

 

 

“Oh hyung, group hug time,” Daehwi grabs both redheads into a bone crushing hug and Woojin cries a little more into the younger’s shoulder as his tears seep through Daehwi’s thin shirt, eliciting a groan from the shirt owner.

 

 

“You wanna give him a call?”

 

 

Youngmin passes Woojin his phone, and he unlocks it to find missed calls from ‘jihoonie the cutie <3’ from earlier in the morning and a text from his mum reminding him to take his meds. He presses on the highlighted missed call, only to hear the automated message drone out after three rings.

 

 

“Maybe I should get ready and-”

 

 

“Woah hold on Woojin hyung, are you sure you’re in a fit condition to go out?” Daehwi restrains him from getting out of his blanket cocoon and Woojin lets out a sneeze that almost shakes the walls of his room before rubbing the back of his neck.

 

 

“I’m guessing, no,” Youngmin pushes him back into bed with a warm glass of water.

 

 

“We’ll go by his house and tell him what’s up, but for now stay put,” Daehwi gives him a suspicious side eye as he gets up from the ground.

 

 

“Don’t even think about going outside and infecting everyone with your apocalyptic sneezes and phlegmy cough,” the younger says with a tone of finality and Woojin lets out a hoarse huff before sliding back into his blanket, taking a long, obnoxious slurp of his water.

 

 

“We’ll catch you later buddy,” Youngmin gives him the Wave that never fails to remind Woojin of a dad sending his son off to school and Daehwi just eyerolls before staring at him with a look that Woojin deciphers as ‘get-better-soon-and-don’t-do-anything-stupid.’ He only gives them a sickly wave back and listens to their footsteps pad down the hallway before the front door closes with a click.

 

 

And alas, Park Woojin is left to his own devices and thoughts and with each sip of his cup, he begins to form a new worst-case scenario that could occur if- after he confesses.

 

Scenario 1 -

 

_“Oh, I was only kidding Woojin, just wanted to see your reaction!” Jihoon says with a booming cackle, tipping his head back in laughter. As he wipes away the tears he conjured just to prank him, Woojin only laughs back uneasily before feigning fatigue and waiting until Jihoon leaves the house so he can cry himself to sleep._

Scenario 2 –

 

_“Oh my God Woojin, I was only practising my acting for this new role of an obscure independent film I never told you I was going to audition for! Was it believable? I suddenly want to pursue acting as of this moment and my emotions must’ve been in full force!” The boy excitedly exclaims and Woojin is overcome with so many emotions._

_He wants to act? How was he so immersed into his, acting? Who, what, how- Jihoon can act so well?!_

_As Woojin continues to be baffled and kind of heartbroken, Jihoon passionately recites a line from some Shakespearean work that Woojin barely recognises._

_“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”_

_Jihoon gazes into the window with a distant look clouding his eyes before he dramatically turns his head to look back at Woojin, and smiles._

_“This sonnet reminds me of my old heartthrob from Masan who recited this to me on the school rooftop in front of our whole school with roses,”_

_Woojin promptly bursts into tears._

Scenario 3 -

_“I thought you were someone else for a minute, sorry that just slipped out,” Jihoon wipes away his tears with his shirt sleeves, and suddenly his phone lights up with a contact Woojin doesn’t recognise._

_  
Jihoon unlocks his phone in such a hurry that Woojin only manages to catch the pink blush that colours the other’s cheeks as he rapidly types back and forgets that Woojin exists for a total of six minutes._

Even at the thought of Jihoon even ignoring him for more than thirty seconds gets Woojin anxious and vulnerable, maybe even bringing him to the verge of tears.

 

The fact that fake, hypothetical Jihoon can induce these emotions out of him, scares him tremendously and Woojin half hopes that Daehwi and Youngmin suddenly forget to stop by the said boy’s house, and he never has to verbally declare his feelings towards the brunet. However, knowing Daehwi and his ability to retain every act, goal, and memory (offensive ones are more often remembered) in that small head of his, it’s highly unlikely and Woojin just sinks further into his sheets, cup of water now cold huddled into the crevice of his neck and shoulder.

 

Maybe when he wakes up, it’ll all have been a dream and Jihoon didn’t say the l-word and Woojin suddenly doesn’t have feelings and they can stay platonic, best friends.

 

But as he expects, nothing he ever wishes for, even when it’s on a shooting star, on his birthday, New Year’s, even Chuseok, comes true. Because when he wakes up, Daehwi and Youngmin are hauling his ass into the bathroom with a set of clothes and determination in their eyes.

 

 

-

 

Jihoon wakes up with swollen eyes, blotchy red cheeks, and to an incessant knock on his door.

 

It’s Sunday, which means no mail, therefore it must be two other things.

 

Number one, Woojin, the last thing Jihoon wants right now.

 

Number two, people trying to coax him into joining a cult, another thing Jihoon really can’t deal right now.

 

Maybe he can just ignore the knocks and wait until they leave before scurrying to his window to prove his suspicions. However, the knocking really just _doesn’t_ stop and he dabs at his eyes to make himself look less, heartbroken before walking towards the front door.

 

But when he peers through the peephole, there’s are two heads of silver and red, which only means one thing.

 

 

“Hi hyung!” Daehwi greets him with a bright smile whilst Youngmin gives Jihoon a small wave, and he can only smile back and welcome them into his house, even though people are the last thing Jihoon wants to interact with.

 

 

“It’s alright, we only came by to pass on a message,” Youngmin inadvertently assures Jihoon and he lets out an internal sigh of relief.

 

 

“Woojin just asked us to ask you if you could meet him tomorrow afternoon,” Daehwi says with an air of caution, eyes barely meeting Jihoon’s and Youngmin nods, hand around Daehwi’s shoulder. For the first time in his life, Jihoon isn’t sure how to respond.

 

 

“Before you refuse Jihoon, Woojin really wants to talk to you, and we want you guys to talk it out too,” Youngmin reads his mind, and Jihoon grips the sleeves of his jumper, nails digging into the thick cotton.

 

 

“I- Okay I’ll text him,” Jihoon says quietly, his voice barely coming above a whisper as he directs his attention to a piece of lint hanging from the edge of his jumper. A hand comes up to his arm, and he recognises the thin, delicate fingers to be Daehwi’s as he looks up to see the younger smiling at him with something unknown glittering in his gaze.

 

 

“You’re the best thing to happen to Woojin in a long time Jihoon hyung, I just want you guys to be happy,” the silver-haired boy’s voice wavers and Jihoon realises the unknown something are tears.

 

 

And before he  knows it, something wet rolls down Jihoon’s cheeks.

 

 

“Oh come here Jihoon, group hug time,” Youngmin initiates it this time and Daehwi giggles, dabbing at his eyes with his shirt sleeves before they both outstretch their hands towards him.

 

 

Jihoon forgets that they’re not only Woojin’s friends but his as well. That thought alone brings along more fresh tears to his eyes and in amidst his contemplation, Jihoon temporarily forgets about the hug and Youngmin just pulls him into the embrace. Comforting hands rub at his back and the warmth that surrounds him triggers a familiar sensation that starts in his stomach and bubbles to his chest, swirling around his heart like a cashmere scarf on a frosty day.

 

It reminds him of when they first met, Jihoon being nervous and afraid of what they would think of him, only to be enveloped into a circle of friends that swore to protect him like a brother and gave him the biggest laughs and smiles he’d experienced in a while. Daehwi with his charming wit and audacious nature, Youngmin with his gentle yet strong demeanour and loyalty, Donghyun with his ability to ease anyone he meets as well as his crappy jokes that always seem to crack him up. And of course, Woojin.

 

Jihoon could write miles and miles about all of the tanned boy’s qualities, but right now all he wants is to bask in the sweet sensation a bit longer. Youngmin lets go first, ruffling Jihoon’s hair as he smiles affectionately at him. Daehwi holds onto him a little longer and Jihoon feels his shoulder dampen just the slightest as the younger lets go, a pensive look settling in his hazel eyes.

 

 

“We all love you a lot Jihoon, just remember that,” Daehwi whispers into his ear as they say their goodbyes and the warm sensation from before comes back for a fleeting moment.

 

 

As he watches them walk down the driveway and onto the pathway, Jihoon wonders what he did in his past life to deserve such adoring and kind friends.

 

Maybe he didn’t do anything in his past life at all. Maybe he just wandered into a chemist one summer’s day, set on finding flu medicine for his mother, only to find a cute, tanned boy at the register with defined biceps and a penchant for becoming flustered.

 

One thing led to another and now Jihoon’s staring at his neighbourhood with its large trees adorning every street, students and elderly alike that walk the pathways, and the sunlight that washes over the gardens and the windows of every house like a puddle seeping over the concrete on a rainy day. It’s just like every other neighbourhood Jihoon’s ever lived in, yet it holds so much more meaning and it leaves him wondering about the boy in house with the tattered soccer boots out on the front.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know they cry a lot (esp jihoon oh lord) but then again, don't we all :')) i'm back after a little bit - it was a tough week but i'm doing better now and i hope you guys are all safe and doing okay too!
> 
> this is the chapter that i found a little difficult to write compared to the others (it's also probably the longest?) - i found writing about 2park's feelings and past experiences the fairly easy part but the dialogue and describing their actions was again just as difficult as before. i think there should only be one or two more chapters left of this thing and i'm so thankful for everyone who commented or gave me kudos, it means the world <3
> 
> and as always - fav line?


	6. fear, which holds my hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bicep boy realises that he has so many people around him that love and support him, more than he ever knew. After he learns more about himself and slowly learns to accept himself with all of his imperfections and flaws, he finally allows himself to love others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning; near the end of this chapter, an anxiety attack is described. if this is something that could trigger you, please do not read from the asterisk (*) until the next one.

After the raging thoughts and hypothetical scenarios finally settle and call it quits, Woojin finds himself slowly dozing off after Daehwi and Youngmin leave, only for his beloved sister, Yerim to come home, crashing her sports bag into the wall and shuffling out of her shoes with a ruckus. Woojin wouldn’t be surprised to see one of her trainers a questionable distance away from its pair.

And he isn’t, because as he walks out from his room to grab another glass of water, there’s a large brown scuff mark on the white wall and a rogue black Adidas shoe in the living room instead of the shoe rack.

 

“Hey big bro, how you feeling?” Yerim asks as she opens the fridge to grab a fruit popper with obscenely bright fruits on it, only emphasising its artificialness despite its big claim of ‘Real Fruit Juice!’ on the front. First of all, Woojin was completely unaware that his mum had been buying his childhood favourite beverage all this time, and two, he feels slightly hurt that no one told him. But his series of thoughts is interrupted when he feels something warm being placed in his hand and Woojin snaps out of his daze to see his sister pouring more water into his cup from the kettle. He gives her a nod of thanks before remembering that she asked him a question.

 

“Feeling better I guess, how was dance?” Woojin says through sips of his water as his sister finishes her juice with a final obnoxiously loud slurp.

 

“It was alright, we’re learning new choreo, nothing too difficult but it’s to Only One by Boa and man-” Yerim looks at him with a glint in her eye and Woojin dreads her next words.

 

“It just threw me back to when Sehun from EXO and Boa danced together at that end-of-year music show, wow an iconic performance,” his sister snickers as Woojin exhales loudly, eyes now diverted to the very interesting droplet of water trailing down the side of his mug.

 

“Oh, and that other iconic moment, you know when _you_ danced and sang to Only One and one of the unnies from the academy managed to record the whole thing and upload it, now _that_ was iconic,”

 

Woojin resists the urge to flee and suffocate himself with his duvet, blocking and exterminating every memory of young, naive Woojin singing passionately and dancing _vivaciously_ to one of the most famous songs of 2012, and instead, just shudders and gulps down more water.

 

“Man, just wait till I show Jihoon oppa, he’s gonna laugh so hard- are you okay?”

 

Woojin doesn’t realise that he’s tearing up until he sees the small tear-sized spot on his sweatpants. Immediately wiping at his eyes, Woojin’s ready to pull an excuse from his ass but his sister steals the words from his mouth.

 

“A whole stone and a half could fly into your eye and you’d be tearing up less than that,”

 

Yerim sits herself on the stool next to Woojin, arm slung around his shoulder as she pats his left arm in a soothing rhythm and it calms him down almost instantly.

 

“I’m just scared Yeri,” he croaks out and his sister’s gaze softens at the nickname.

 

“We’re all scared oppa, but it just takes that one shred of courage and confidence to tackle our greatest enemies,”

 

Woojin wonders how his thirteen-year-old sister has the wisdom and composure of someone his age, yet he’s stuck with a fear of emotions and commitment.

 

“But it’s hard Yeri, it’s the first time I’ve ever experienced emotions so intense and I’m afraid that I won’t be able to control them and stop myself from doing something stupid, something I’ll regret-”

 

“But how will you know if it will be stupid or if you’ll regret it if you never express those emotions?”

 

Her tone isn’t cold or cynical, but curious. Curious about what, Woojin doesn’t know, but her words are enough to halt his line of thought.

 

“Park Woojin, even though I never say it, and will probably never say it again after this, I think you’re the best brother in the world and I love you heaps,” his sister smiles at him, truth and honesty to her voice and Woojin has known Park Yerim for her entire life, which is long enough to know for a fact that she never says anything she doesn’t mean. But this fact doesn’t make it easier for him to believe her words.

 

“I’m not going to feed you compliments so that you’ll have enough self-esteem to tackle your enemies, because I’ve known you my whole life and it won’t be that easy for a person like you, but I just want you to know that even though you’re the best brother in the world, even though you’re thoughtful and have so many other wonderful qualities, you still have flaws and that’s okay,”

 

His sister lifts her hand from his arm to his shoulder with her other hand pushing the side of his chin to face her. Yerim has always had strong features from her tall nose and almost always furrowed eyebrows, to her cheekbones and soft but evident jaw. She’s just getting to the beginning stages puberty, hence the developing acne on her cheeks and forehead and the baby fat that softens her face, but it reminds Woojin that she’s still young and he shouldn’t pile his problems onto her, like right now. However, the maturity she carries in her voice, her words and actions changes his mind sometimes, and Woojin wonders what he did in his past life to deserve such an intelligent and insightful sister.

 

“Hey big bro stop daydreaming, I’m in the middle of my deep and meaningful monologue,” Woojin laughs at that and a grin appears on her face.

 

“Okay TL;DR-”

 

“You’re not online-”

 

“ _TL;DR_ , Park Woojin, son of two amazing parents, brother to the most amazing sister, you go find that shred of courage and confidence, you accept the fact that you have flaws and that’s okay, and you go and tackle those enemies, whoever or whatever they may be!” she says with a triumphant look plastered on her face and Woojin feels a surge of something electric streaming through his veins, and maybe, just maybe, this is what it feels like.

 

What it feels like to know that you might just be able to tackle your enemies.

More so, tackle the fear that he isn’t enough for Park Jihoon, who might as well be the most perfect human that Woojin has ever laid his eyes on, then after tackling the fear, muster up the courage to text him, and then after Jihoon (hopefully) agrees to meet up with him, he can gather his senses and choose a fitting outfit-

Maybe he’s overthinking it.

 

“Okay well that’s my good deed for the day done, catch you later big bro,” Yerim slides off the stool and picks up her bag before walking towards her bedroom. But before she opens the door, she gives Woojin one last glance and has the nerve to _wink_ before she says in a sing-song voice:

 

“Make sure you say hi to Jihoon oppa for me!”

 

And she walks into her room, door clicking shut and Woojin genuinely wonders if his sister can read minds.

-

_‘Come on Jihoon, you can do it! Just press the button…’_

Jihoon watches as his thumb with a mind of its own, hovers over the ‘Send’ button but ultimately avoids pressing it, as if it’ll cause a mass apocalypse or cause Jihoon to initiate a meet-up that’ll result in him having to be physically present for his rejection. To be honest, his thumb firmly believes that both events are synonymous.

So, he rolls in his bed, phone in a vice grip as he chooses between disregarding Daehwi and Youngmin, or listening to them (and his true feelings) and just sending the goddamn text.

 

**_to: mr 4000 won_ **

_hey, daehwi and youngmin came over_

_telling me you wanted to meet up?_

_are you feeling better?_

_how’s your fever?_

_~~do you lov~~ _ ~~~~

_~~do you like me back?~~ _ ~~~~

Jihoon adds the question mark, as if he’s still wondering if Woojin’s- their friends actually came to his house, knocked at his door a considerable amount of times, and told Jihoon that they loved and appreciated him, and that he and Woojin really need to get their shit together.

He keeps the question mark, only because no punctuation seems too casual and a full stop just makes the text sound dead serious and almost ominous. Yes, only because of that.

And of course, just as his thumb finally decides that it wants to press send, Jihoon’s phone vibrates and a text message bubble appears on the chat.

 

**_mr 4000 won_ **

_hey jihoon. i think daehwi_

_and youngmin went to yours?_

_but if they didn’t um_

_sorry i wish i could’ve gone to you_

_directly and talked earlier but i’m_

_still sick and the last thing i want_

_to do is infect you with my_

_‘apocalyptic’ sneeze but would_

_you mind meeting me at the_

_chemist tmmr at 2pm? i_

_should be better by then i_

_swear but hopefully you_

_can make it?_

 

Jihoon’s thumb finds it incredibly easy to press delete, and it’s Jihoon this time (not his weird sentient finger) who finds it incredibly easy to type back a response.

 

**_jihoonie the cutie <3_ **

_it’s okay i understand_

_chemist at 2 sounds fine_

_by me but make sure_

_you’re feeling okay_

_mainly because i’m scared_

_of your apocalyptic sneeze_

_but you know, your health_

_matters too, or whatever._

_i’ll see you then_

 

He lets out a loud sigh as he drops his phone onto his chest, palm sweaty from holding it for too long. But Jihoon’s thumb strikes again, as it scrolls through their past messages (it’s all his finger’s doing, Jihoon _swears_ ) and he smiles at all of their inside jokes, Woojin’s unnecessary emojis, their strange discussions in the middle of the night about almost every what-if situation they could think of, oh and the time that Yerim stole Woojin’s phone and starting texting him about her brother’s dark history when he was younger at their dance academy, and of course, Woojin’s goodnight texts. They ironically had Jihoon up all night as he overanalysed every heart emoji, every sleazy ‘i hope you dream about me ;-)’ and didn’t sleep until a while after the text was sent. Instead of crying at the past messages, which is his first instinct, Jihoon smiles wistfully and finally gets off his bed and out of his bedroom, where he’d spent the last two hours overthinking and crying about a crush that developed into something much more. Jihoon realises that although he’s had various unfortunate experiences with romance and to a certain extent, has a right to be emotional and stressed over another crush whom he did say the godforsaken ‘three words’ to, it doesn’t mean the end of the world. There’s a smidgen of courage settling in his bones, seeping through his whole body and settling cosily in his chest, and it gives him just that little faith in himself and in Woojin, that maybe this won’t end so badly after all.

But in typical Jihoon fashion, he quickly reminds himself that the smidgen of courage could disappear in an instance and that he shouldn’t be giving himself false hope. But as he rereads Woojin’s text, Jihoon notices that Woojin also used a question mark. Although it probably doesn’t have the same meaning and weight as it did for him, he wonders if Woojin isn’t quite sure about some things too.

The question mark keeps the smidgen of courage alive in Jihoon.

-

Woojin wakes up at ten on the dot the next morning with clearer sinuses, lungs that don’t want to lunge out of his chest with every breath he takes, and a functioning throat. It’s strange, because it has to be a coincidence that he’s meeting Jihoon on this day, at the same place they first met. Woojin is a firm non-believer of fate and luck (because how much can occur without your own direct influence? The universe created burgers and heart-breaking survival shows, but it isn’t _that_ amazing) but something about the soft-eyed boy is softening him up to the concept.

As well as that, sure modern medicine can cure illnesses and give his mother a stable job, but if Wikihow says that the common flu should disappear in three to five days and his has practically gone in two, then there must be _some_ sort of miracle at play, because just how _amazing_ can 21st century medicine be?

 

( _‘Chemotherapy and antibiotics exist too dimwit,’_

_‘Without vaccinations, you’d be a virus and bacteria feeding ground, Woojin you ungrateful twit,’_

 

Woojin ignores imaginary Daehwi and Donghyun.)

But before Woojin gets too happy, of course he has to smear some toothpaste across his black shirt, but this time. he doesn’t mope and whine. Instead, he accepts it and moves on, because even though it’s pretty gross to see in the mirror and maybe a little unhygienic to be sleeping in, this small nuisance doesn’t inconvenience him greatly, therefore he shouldn’t be bothered by it. You only live once and life is too short to complain about the small things.

Before Woojin can even settle into his positive, motivational alter ego (whom he hasn’t even named yet), the sound of his beloved sister, Park Yerim’s voice slaps him back into cold, harsh reality.

In short, the reality where Jihoon hasn’t replied to his text yet.

 

“I know you’re in the middle of an internal monologue that’ll indicate the end of the narrative arc of your _riveting_ life big bro, but seriously hurry up or I will sock Donghyun oppa in the mouth so he stops wailing about how he lost his job as a therapist at our doorstep,” Yerim looks like she’s neither surprised or joking when she swings open the bathroom door and relays her message onto Woojin. At the mention of his friend being a public disturbance, he doesn’t bother changing his shirt before he sprints down the stairs and opens the front door to see an upset, fully-grown man pointing with exaggerated jabs to a familiar chat on his phone.

 

“I was gone for four days- FOUR DAYS, and nobody updates ‘the hoemones’?! Do you even understand how WORRIED I was, sitting in my living room in Daejeon with my phone in my hand, wondering how and if my dearest friends were surviving?! You’re so _inconsiderate_ sometimes Woojin-”

 

“You literally could’ve just called me-”

 

“ _And_ you interrupt me, I can’t believe you!”

 

Woojin stares at his older friend with the most unimpressed look he can muster, still dressed in his toothpaste-smeared shirt and flannel pyjama bottoms until Donghyun finally drops the creased eyebrows and teary eyes and returns the unimpressed expression.

 

“Is somebody going to tell what the hell happened in the span of four days that I was gone?”

 

After Woojin sends urgent texts to both Daehwi and Youngmin to ‘please save me Donghyun hyung came back,’ they both appear in an instant, panting as they knock on Woojin’s door desperately.

 

“Come in,” Woojin says, not even trying to mask the fatigued expression on his face. Both of them nod understandingly before slipping off their shoes and entering his house. They’re all in for a long ride.

 

“So, let me get this- straight,” Donghyun begins, only to be interrupted by Daehwi failing to hold in a snort. Youngmin only bumps the younger’s arm, biting his lip hard enough so he doesn’t break out in giggles either but they shut up immediately when Donghyun throws them a dirty look.

 

“ _As I was saying_ , first of all, Woojin gets sick for unknown reasons, you guys come and make sure he’s still alive, Jihoon comes in, you guys go out to give them space, and according to Woojin, he wakes up to see Jihoon crying and then Jihoon tells Woojin he loves him before he jets,” Donghyun pauses for a breath and the rest of them just nod with forlorn eyes, so helpless that it would’ve seemed as if all four of them had their crush abruptly confess their love for them before bolting.

 

“And then Woojin, _classic_ Woojin, isn’t loud enough to call Jihoon back, so they’re both sort of moping or running away for ten minutes until you guys come back to ask Woojin what the hell just happened, he tells you guys, there’s have a bonding moment, and because Woojin isn’t alive enough to leave his bedroom, you guys go to Jihoon’s to pass on the message, more bonding time happens, and Woojin finally gets himself together and texts Jihoon later that night, to which Jihoon hasn’t-”

 

A loud vibration interrupts Donghyun’s recount and they all huddle over Woojin’s small phone screen as he opens up his messages

 

**_jihoonie the cutie <3_ **

_it’s okay i understand_

_chemist at 2 sounds fine_

_by me but make sure_

_you’re feeling okay_

_mainly because i’m scared_

_of your apocalyptic sneeze_

_but you know, your health_

_matters too, or whatever._

_i’ll see you then_

 

“To which Jihoon has replied,” Donghyun murmurs to no one in particular, and Woojin’s heart almost falls out of his chest.

 

“Wait, it says he sent this over eleven hours ago?! How did you only receive this now?!” Daehwi nudges his older friends aside as he squints at the tiny phone screen.

 

“Uh, I think I have Do Not Disturb on-”

 

“What kind of loser has Do Not Disturb turned on?!” Daehwi shoots back, looking completely mortified and offended, and Woojin hides behind Donghyun in a moment of utter fear.

 

“We could’ve had this conversation earlier if hyung hadn’t turned off all of his notifications,” the silver-haired boy mutters, inhaling a deep breath with dramatic hand gestures and flared nostrils, before exhaling and bringing his attention back to the device in Woojin’s slightly sweaty grip.

 

“Back to the message, before I literally obliterate you for shutting off all digital communication for eleven hours every day, like some sort of _caveman_ , Jihoon hyung said yes, which is obviously great, point is he sounds casual in this text, which means-”

 

“He wanted to respond to your text with the same tone that you sent it with, or he wanted to reply in the same way he usually does, which could mean that he wants you guys to go back to what you used to be, or essentially forget that anything ever happened,” Donghyun says, all in one breath and the two exchange looks before directing their gazes to Woojin immediately, and their eyes on him only makes his skin run cold.

 

*The air is stagnant, nothing passing through to interrupt their thoughts or divert their attention for even a split second. It’s this type of silence that Woojin detests the most, because the lack of distraction and noise allows his thoughts to multiply and run amok into dark spaces, free to escalate and intensify until those altered thoughts begin to ring true in his mind, despite their false origins. As Woojin rereads the text over and over, none of the words fully register in his head and his eyes bore into his screen until it turns black.

 

“Hey Woojin, look at me,” a voice finally slices through the silence and Woojin doesn’t realise that he’s holding his breath until he meets eyes with the owner of the voice.

 

“Okay, breathe with me Woojinie, inhale, exhale,” Youngmin whispers, hand squeezing Woojin’s knee and tapping a repetitive beat that brings him back to his living room. Daehwi and Donghyun are silent, but their creased eyebrows and concerned eyes speak volumes. Woojin shudders as he inhales and exhales, following the reassuring rhythm that Youngmin taps on his knee and his skin that had previously gone ice-cold returns to its normal temperature and the elder exhales deeply.

 

“That’s it Woojinie, you’re okay, it’s okay,”

 

Youngmin envelops him in his arms and Woojin sinks into his warm embrace, and he finally hears the draft that comes through from under his door, the sound of the birds outside his house and soft hum of traffic in the distance, and he hears Youngmin breathing softly against his ear. He finally feels the worn cotton material of Youngmin’s plaid t-shirt, the carpet beneath the balls of his feet, and Woojin is okay.

 

However, the other two in the room are visibly shocked and once Woojin regains his breath, he slips out of his older friend’s arms.

 

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t happen, and hasn’t happened in a while, apart from today,” he begins, fingers picking at a piece of fluff on the ground and he can sense their relief through the small breaths.

 

Daehwi and Donghyun however exchange another look but of an entirely new context and the moment they realised, Daehwi breaks down into tears.*

 

“I- I’m so sorry Woojinie hyung, I didn’t mean-” the younger chokes up and there’s hesitation in his actions as he stretches his arms out slightly before retracting them almost instantly after, but Woojin extends his arms instead and Daehwi falls into them, silent sobs dampening the sleeves of his shirt. His arms are still weak from before but Daehwi’s grasp is gentle and his cries have subsided into small sniffles.

 

“God Woojin, I’m so- I shouldn’t have overanalysed it, it was a message meant for only you to interpret and I just gave you so much more stress-,” Donghyun rambles, on the verge of sobbing too, as his lips quiver and eyes blink rapidly. Woojin motions at the elder with his free hand and the elder quickly wraps his arm around him, fingertips carding through Woojin’s faded red hair as he whispers ‘I’m so sorry,’ repeatedly into his hair.

 

Woojin cranes his neck over the two heads of his other friends to find the other redhead huddled by himself, head in his hands. He lets his right hand drop next to his body as he reaches over to touch the elder gently on the arm.

 

“I’m sorry too Woojinie, I should’ve known that something could’ve been triggered and stopped you from having to go through that again-” Youngmin looks up and his eyes are red-rimmed.

 

“Come over here hyung, it’s not your fault,” Woojin replies softly, and offers another hand to the elder, who hesitantly pads over and drapes his long arms over all three of them.

 

They hug for what seems like eternity, and Woojin relishes in the ability to hear their slow breaths (although Daehwi and Donghyun’s breaths are slightly laboured) and to feel their arms entangled in this mess of a group cuddle they’ve engaged in on the floor of his living room.

 

“Is it too soon to say ‘group hug time’?”

 

A muffled voice pipes up, which all of them can identify as the sixteen-year-old currently suffocating underneath Donghyun’s vice grip and the moment Youngmin lets out an unflattering snort, all of them burst into soft giggles that reverberate across the room.

The rest of the morning goes by in a blur, as he with the help of Youngmin, explains his struggle with anxiety. It leaves Woojin with lighter shoulders and Daehwi and Donghyun swearing to help him all that they can. From when Daehwi came into his life those three years ago and Donghyun shortly after him and Youngmin started dating, Woojin hadn’t experienced an attack in a while, which was mainly due to his mother helping him in any way she could to help prevent or at least reduce the severity of his attacks. Doing dance and walking had made the largest impact as well as leaving time for himself to practise any other preventative methods or mental exercises. Every time it was one of those afternoons and Daehwi had excitedly invited him out for milkshakes or a round at the arcade, Woojin always said that he needed to help Yerim with homework or help his mother at the chemist. Whenever Donghyun was in the picture, Youngmin backed him up and for that, Woojin was incredibly grateful.

The topic never arose and as Woojin hung out with both of them every weekend and alternate afternoon after school, an unsettling feeling would linger at the bottom of his chest and every time they parted, he’d walk home with a heavy heart, only comforted slightly by Youngmin telling him it was okay, and that he could always tell them when he was ready.

Woojin, for a fact, never feels ready and hence, he had never gotten to telling them until today. The weight he had never noticed riding on his back was alleviated, and the morning flies by so fast that it’s only until 1:40pm that they all remember.

 

“Park Woojin, so help me God we are not letting you out of the house to meet and talk to your first proper crush, like the mature young adults you are, in a toothpaste-stained shirt and checkered pyjama pants,”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took a bit of a turn... something i didn’t expect either.
> 
> i just wanted to expand more on woojin’s personality because as much as one can be ‘socially inept’ and ‘awkward’, there can be other deeply rooted reasons and one may be anxiety. i was questioning myself when i was thinking of this part because i myself am not a sufferer of anxiety or any mental disorder/illness, so i didn’t feel fit to write an experience in its full extent. from some research i did, the way i portrayed woojin’s anxiety attack is nor the standard and/or a professional diagnosis for anxiety as this is purely fiction and what he experiences is close to but not exactly what all people who has anxiety disorders experience during these attacks. i used this website (https://medium.com/@gtinari/how-to-handle-someone-elses-anxiety-or-panic-attacks-51ee63f5c23b) to write youngmin’s part in particular. i’ll include other links i read as well at the bottom of this note - but if anyone has any queries and/or issues with this scene, i will immediately edit or delete it from this chapter. 
> 
> your feedback means the most to me and if there are any tips or more information about anxiety, anxiety attacks, or other symptoms that i should know of, please comment down below! it’ll be helpful and new knowledge for me and a lot of other people :))
> 
> i promise it’ll be happier in the next chapter! and as always - favourite line?
> 
> http://abcnews.go.com/Health/AnxietyOverview/story?id=4659738 - what is the difference between an anxiety and a panic attack
> 
> https://www.elementsbehavioralhealth.com/news-and-research/anxiety-vs-nervousness-101-managing-mild-anxiety/amp/ - anxiety vs nervousness 101: managing mild anxiety
> 
> https://www.calmclinic.com/anxiety/attacks/how-to-prevent-them - how to prevent an anxiety attack before it hits you


	7. through and through (i’ll find my way to you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bicep Boy and Sleazebag finally get it together and _get_ together.

It’s twelve in the afternoon when Jihoon cracks his eyes open, the afternoon sun beating down through his window, irritating enough to arouse him. Catching himself in the mirror as he shuffles out of bed, Jihoon cards through his knotted hair, split ends getting caught in between his fingers before he runs his hand over his eyes, touching each eye bag which are each coloured a splotchy pink. Attributing it to the fact that he cried heavily almost five times the day before, Jihoon ignores his sickly appearance and drags his feet towards the bathroom, arms and legs moving according muscle memory as he brushes his teeth, combs his hair the best he can and washes his face with a generic cleanser.

But just as he’s about to pull out clothes from his wardrobe, something clicks in his brain like a cog to another cog, whirring softly.

 

His hand hovers over a range of pink t-shirts for a moment before it returns to his side. All types of bright and differing shades of every colour imaginable hang on the rack of his wardrobe and Jihoon remembers all the times Woojin made a snarky comment or threw him a disapproving glance at the sight of his outfit. It almost makes him smile, but Jihoon shakes his head, determined not to dream too far ahead and decides on a safe pair of slim, light denim jeans that end just nicely at his ankles, along with a cream jumper with small rips on the sleeves. Why he paid a ridiculous amount of money for a item of clothing with holes in it is beyond his understanding, but he pushes his impulsive purchases to the very back of his mind. It’s the least of his concerns right now.

 

The time is 1:40 according to the ominous grandfather clock that his father insists gives the house-

  


_“Character! Doesn’t it remind you of you know, that movie with the lion? And those blonde children?”_

  


_“Narnia? Firstly Dad, that was a wardrobe, secondly, there was only one blonde kid!”_

  


Jihoon plays one more round on the music app he downloaded recently, just narrowly missing a point above his high score before he shuts it off and shoves it into his back pocket.

  


‘This is it, this is _it_ Park Jihoon, you’re gonna get out there, meet that boy you’re in love with and tell him how you truly feel! No running away, no sobbing hysterically, maybe a stray tear, but that’s it! You’re gonna suck it up and get a grip, you hear me?!’

  


There’s a series of passionate hand gestures that happen and various ‘fighting!’ cheers Jihoon whispers to himself, giving himself the confidence he desperately needs right now, no matter how fleeting. Inhaling and exhaling one last time, Jihoon shucks on his white trainers and closes the door behind him. His feet start pulling him along the path he’s walked so many times before, and Jihoon doesn’t know if he should dread reaching the end.

 

The small burst of confidence really is fleeting, because as soon as Jihoon spots the white and blue storefront, the smile on his face falls in an instance and his palms gather sweat from gripping so tightly onto his jumper sleeves.

  


‘Come on Jihoon, just a few more steps and maybe a painful fifteen minutes of your life before you can run away-’

  


“Jihoon?”

  


Oh, heavens.

  


“Woojin,” Jihoon spins on his heel ever so slowly, and when he sees a familiar lopsided smile, he doesn’t realise how much he missed it.

  


“Hi,”

  


Woojin looks worse for wear, his usual bright and energetic demeanor replaced with a dull complexion and slumped posture. He’s dressed in an all too familiar outfit, a white tank top coupled with blue shorts with an oversized hoodie thrown on top, and it sends a current of deja vu tumbling over Jihoon. It’s been only two months since they first met (and two months since Jihoon fell irrevocably in love) at the pharmacy, but it feels like an eternity.

  


“Are you feeling better? Did you take you medicine? Are you still coughing? Have you been sleeping well?” The questions Jihoon has been dying to ask spill out and Woojin blinks slowly, unsure of which question to answer first and Jihoon silently chides himself for being so overwhelming.

  


“Yes, yes, yes, and no,”

  


Jihoon follows his every word until the last and worry seeps into his mind again.

  


“Are you coughing more at night? Have you tried-”

  


“You,”

  


His breath gets caught in his throat.

  


“I haven’t been sleeping well because of you,”

  


Woojin’s looking at him with that look in his eyes, the one where his pupils swirl like dark brown pools and Jihoon loses himself in them if he looks at him for a fraction longer than a second. It’s the one that Jihoon can never decipher, but this time he has a feeling he knows what it means.

  


“Why did you run Jihoon?” Woojin doesn’t sound accusatory or hurt. Just confused, and Jihoon’s heart clenches because Woojin should be hurt, angry that Jihoon ran and didn’t contact him, leaving him with the burden of his words with no explanation. But he isn’t, because that’s how Woojin is. Forgiving and too good for Jihoon.

  


“I was scared Woojin, I said something that held a lot of meaning so carelessly in amidst my emotions and well, you’re straight-”

  


“Pardon?” Woojin chokes out and Jihoon scrunches up his face, scowling at the clearly amused younger male. Does Woojin really have the audacity to joke around right now?

  


“Jihoon, I’m not straight, far from straight really,” the tanned boy says with a sheepish smile and Jihoon pinches himself.

  


“But your wallpaper, and your goddamn phone password! And that girl who said your snaggle was cute?!” he sputters and Woojin only lets out an airy laugh.

  


“Yeah but I also have a massive crush on Kim Jongin and have pined for at least five dudes during high school so far - I mean six now I guess,” the taller male murmurs the last part and Jihoon must be hearing things or seeing things, because the tops of Woojin’s cheeks can’t be dusted pink.

  


“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have assumed,” Jihoon bites the inside of his lip and Woojin waves him off, and Jihoon takes it as a sign for him to continue.

  


“Love-” He bites back his tongue. He’s used that word too often.

  


“ _Relationships_ never worked out and it always seemed like I kept falling for the wrong people.”

  


They’ve found a bench just near the pharmacy to sit on and Woojin’s eyes soften, and Jihoon almost loses himself in them like he’s done time and time before.

  


“In Masan, I kept growing attached to people who I believed, or wanted to believe would be the one, my very own high school sweetheart but every single time, I’d see this look in their eyes and I just knew that it wasn’t meant to be,” he feels the familiar lump at the base of his throat resurfacing when he thinks about each of them, what they looked like, what they said when he saw them for the last time.

  


Donghan, with his mussed up hair and crinkled eyes when he ruffled Jihoon’s head, telling him he’d improved so much from the beginning of the year and said that Jihoon didn’t need his help anymore. Giving Jihoon a small pat on the back, Donghan gave him that smile Jihoon had grown to love over the past months before he strolled over to his friends, walking off and out of Jihoon’s life.

 

Jinyoung, eyes on Jihoon as they gave each other a hug but locked on the boy behind Jihoon once they let go. Jihoon only watched silently as Jinyoung looped his arm through Minhyun‘s, eyes glazed with something Jihoon recognised far too well in himself. Jinyoung assured Jihoon that he’d ‘call and text everyday!’ and they parted with another half-hearted hug before Jinyoung tugged on the senior’s arm and thus, that day marked the end of another friendship Jihoon treasured more than the idea of a relationship with the younger boy.

 

And Guanlin, who had sweat running down the side of face after sprinting to find Jihoon at his locker, packing his things, who had enveloped Jihoon with his arms, promising Jihoon that he’d text everyday and that Jihoon had to promise meet up with him in the summer. Seonho even latched himself onto his arm, making him pinky promise to treat him for lunch on his birthday, sealing the promise with a peck on the cheek. Jihoon remembers this day the most because in the end, Guanlin was the only one that kept his promise, and it was Jihoon who didn’t try hard enough in the end.

 

When Woojin places his palm on his hand, fingertips rubbing circles on his knuckles, Jihoon inhales slowly and continues.

  


“And then I met you, and who knows what spurred me to tease you in particular on that day but I did, and I didn’t realise and almost didn’t want to know what that would lead to,” he says softly, eyes glassy as the ends of his mouth curl into a smile and Woojin only smiles back, snaggle and all, making Jihoon fall all over again.

  


Silence falls between them, a comfortable silence and when they lock eyes, Jihoon doesn’t let his eyes flit away from Woojin’s. It’s as if he’s trying to search for answers in the other’s eyes, desperate for something, even if it’s not the answer he wants.

  


“But Woojin, I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings just because you know my pity story, we can stay friends and I’ll find a way to get over you, just give me some time-”

  


“I don’t want you to get over me Jihoon,”

  


The silence that was previously stagnant bursts into tiny pieces, breaking Jihoon’s composure with it.

  


“I like you Jihoon, I like you so _fucking_ much it’s hard to contain and I don’t know how I managed to, but I wished I told you sooner, I wished I made sure you knew that you did nothing wrong, that you mean more to me that I could ever tell you,” Woojin inhales sharply, fingers interlocking with Jihoon’s, slotting together like puzzle pieces.

  


“All this time I was scared out of my mind because you read me so well and so quickly whilst I was still struggling with befriending someone new after so long, especially someone as so intriguing as you. When you came into the chemist, swords blazing with your stupid pick up line on that first day of summer, I let you in and fell so fast, I didn’t fully realise until it was too late,”

  


His voice shakes as he speaks and Jihoon feels the younger’s fingers tremble in his hands as the silence comes back, drifting in slowly as both of them soak in each other’s words.

  


“And here I am, stupidly in love with someone I’m not even close to being enough for, someone who’s intelligent, complex, and deadly gorgeous,” Woojin grins at the sight of Jihoon’s cheeks before he slips his hands out of Jihoon’s and brings them to his cheeks, cupping Jihoon’s face with a touch so gentle, as if he was holding the sky in his palms.

  


“I want to give you everything,”

  


Silence flutters between them like the wind.

  


“Will you let me, Park Jihoon?”

  


Their foreheads touch, breaths mingling as the birds flitter with the leaves, as the sunlight weaves itself in between the trees and falls on the tips of their eyelashes.

  


Jihoon wonders if this is what heaven feels like.

  


“Did you even need to ask?”

  


They’re so close now, all Jihoon needs to do is lean closer but he puts his hands on top of Woojin’s and brings them to his lips, pecking each knuckle softly.

  


“I would’ve kissed you if you weren’t sick, Mr 4000 won,”

  


Woojin chokes violently, coughing to the side before looking back at Jihoon and almost instantly, his cheeks flame with the brightest shade of red possible.

  


“Are we- are we boyfriends now?” Woojin stammers and Jihoon’s chest tightens because how much more adorable can his boyfriend- Woojin get?

  


“Only if you want us to be Mr 4000 won,” Jihoon says airily, but his rosy cheeks give away his facade.

  


Instead of a response, strong arms wrap around his middle as Woojin swings him in the air, off the bench and Jihoon lets out a string of screams.

 

After Woojin swings him around at least two more times, Jihoon is lowered to the ground only a little disoriented and with Woojin’s arms still around his waist, settling on his hips.

  


“Hey Park Jihoon,”

  


“Yes Park Woojin?”

  


“I love you too,”

  


The silence sits comfortably around them, draping over their shoulders and curling around their necks like cashmere scarves. They both hear the soft cicadas chittering in the bushes, the whistle of the breeze. They see the chemist in their peripherals, the obscenely bright ice-cream van only a few metres behind them, the neon sign of the diner hanging a few streets away.

  


But all they can see and hear is each other’s breaths and each other’s eyes. Jihoon doesn’t know what the universe looks like, but as he stares into Woojin’s eyes, he imagines it looks something like that.

  


-

 

Despite the sleep tugging at his eyelids and the drowsiness that seeps throughout his whole body, trickling down his chest and arms like a slow coursing river, Woojin can’t fall asleep. As he closes his eyes and takes deep breaths, inhaling through the nose and exhaling through the mouth as best as he can with a blocked nose, even counting sheep (he loses count after eleven), the natural drug doesn’t kick in and his mind runs wild, thoughts all surrounding a certain boy with chapped lips and enchanting eyes.

 

The thrum of his pulse beats softly in his ears as he pictures Jihoon sitting beisde him on the bench, glazed eyes staring straight into his as their hands intertwined. Woojin pinches himself to make sure he isn’t dreaming.

 

Jihoon had stayed over till after dinner when Woojin couldn’t conceal his cough in the end, and nursed him until Yerim and his mother came home. As per usual, Jihoon couldn’t refuse Woojin’s mother’s demands for him to join them for dinner and Yerim had piped in with a ‘Woojin hasn’t looked alive since today, _please_ stay’ and that was that.

 

Yerim had sent her brother suggestive eyebrows across the dinner table various times, to which he dutifully ignored until she kicked his leg from under the table and he was forced to witness her smug grin.

 

Jihoon had reluctantly stayed for dessert, where he was stuffed with Woojin’s favourite ice-cream whilst Woojin was given a glass of water, a pill and a stern glance from his mother.

  


“Sleep early alright? I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jihoon says as Woojin walks him to the door, and his hand comes up to Woojin’s face to brush a stray hair off his forehead.

  


“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep tonight, _boyfriend_ ,” Woojin teases, grabbing Jihoon’s hand and bringing it to his cheek.

  


“I didn’t consent to being your _boyfriend_ just so you could be so greasy,” Jihoon furrows his eyebrows but his tone shows no real malice as he rubs the top of Woojin’s cheekbone with his thumb.

  


“Sleep early, I mean it Mr 4000-”

  


“When are you going to let that go! It’s even worse because you don’t have any embarrassing nickname I can call you by!” Woojin whines and the brunet throws his head back, a twinkling laughter escaping his mouth.

  


“I’m sure you’ll call me something gross soon, like _honeybunny_ or _sweetcheeks_ ,” the elder almost retches and Woojin only grins smugly before he puts his hands on Jihoon’s shoulders, pressing a small kiss on his forehead.

  


“Okay, okay I’ll sleep early tonight,” Woojin pauses and Jihoon squints at him, before a look of mild horror passes over his face.

 

  
“Don’t do it-”

  


“Goodnight _baby_ ,” Woojin presses an extra kiss into the elder’s hair before waving and he wishes he could capture the pure disbelief in Jihoon’s eyes.

  


“I hate you so much,” Jihoon grumbles before he slips on his shoes and walks into the direction of his home, the setting sun casting shadows behind him.

  


“And I love you too! Text me when you get home okay?” Woojin says loudly as he watches his boyfriend’s (he still can’t believe he gets to call the _Park Jihoon_ that) retreating figure turn slightly and throw up a thumbs up. Jihoon’s standing in front of the sun, which shines a brilliant burnt orange against a backdrop of cotton candy pinks and deep orchid purples and Woojin regrets not having his phone with him to preserve the artwork (he’s going to have to save in his mind, along with his myriad of memories of the said artwork, or the _focal point_ to be specific). As the elder continues walking, arms swinging beside him in a lazy rhythm, distinctive features blurring into a silhouette, Woojin already begins to miss him.

  


“Stop moping loverboy, it’s your turn to wash dishes!” Yerim’s shrill voice interrupts his reverie and Woojin reluctantly turns back on his heel and goes back inside, not forgetting to throw his beloved sister his signature stink eye before setting himself in front of the sink, currently piled up with too many dishes for four people.

  


But before he can shuffle through his dishwashing playlist on Spotify, his phone lights up with a message.

  


**_daethebae_ **

_HEY PARK WOOJIN HOW DID IT GO_

_REPLY BACK IN HOEMONES_

_ASAP_

_LIKE NOW_

_PLEASE!!!!!_

  


It was going to be a long night.

  


-

  


Daehwi screams, Youngmin whoopees and Donghyun cries when Woojin breaks the big news, and even though they only converse through a screen, he feels the love and support seeping from their voices, albeit a little scratchy.

 

They meet up at the diner again, Jihoon initiating the hand holding this time as they walk to the booth in the corner, and the screech Daehwi emits when he spots them pierces some sort of invisible Matrix barrier because Woojin swears he sees the walls of the diner shake. Youngmin and Donghyun congratulate them with warm gazes and shout both of them their favourite spicy BLT meals, and the latter almost tears up again.

 

The summer breezes past, three months suddenly dwindling down to weeks, then to days, and Woojin spends his last year of high school with the person he’s grown to adore over the holiday that felt like an overnight eternity. The stress and fear that exams and impending decisions about his future bring about hits him harder than ever, but with a certain brunet by his side, holding his hand and breathing with him during the longer nights, Woojin gets by. By some sheer dumb luck on his side and hard work and dedication on Jihoon’s, they make it to their first choices for university and like a river, life drifts them towards the centre of it all, Seoul City.

 

With Yerim clinging onto him until he physically has to pull her off before he misses his train, his mother pressing one last kiss into his now ashy brown hair, Daehwi choking him with a hug before he lets go with a teary goodbye wave, he boards the KTX with one hand on his suitcase and another in Jihoon’s softer hand. The countryside where he grew up, the place he grew to love and the setting in which he fell in love, passes him in a blur of ocean blues and lush meadow greens and it’s not until he sees unfamiliar grey buildings and hears the thrum of busy traffic that he realises that he’s grown up.

 

The bridge between childhood and adulthood was crossed during that train ride and Woojin hadn’t realised until he was on the other side.

 

As the train pulls into the station, the automated female voice reminds passengers not to forget their belongings and almost instantly, Woojin turns to the sleeping figure beside him. Despite Jihoon’s adorable now pink hair sticking in about every compass direction imaginable, Woojin has the sudden realisation that this is the boy he’s going to spend the whole next stage of his life with, and it fills him with a sense of adoration and anticipation. He won’t be able to immortalise this feeling, but he snaps a photo to at least remind him of it.

 

(Jihoon finds the photo whilst trawling through Woojin’s camera roll, ironically trying to find an incriminating photo of Daehwi he took in Busan to post for the younger’s birthday and demands Woojin to delete it, which he does, without telling him that he backed up his photos an hour before).

 

They enjoy both the exhilarating and painful, yet blissful and fleeting aspects of young adulthood and they’re both sure it’s going to last forever.

 

But the river reaches a curve sooner or later, and Woojin wonders when life suddenly lost momentum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i have no good excuse for my million-year break but i hope this suffices? school has been a real goddamn nightmare as always but i finally got this out after it sat in my google docs for an eternity and a half - sorrynotsorry for the last line :')
> 
> there should be one more chapter left, an epilogue/continuation of their relationship so i hope you'll stick around!
> 
> and as always, comment your favourite line?


	8. this feels like summer (boy you'll lead me to paradise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bicep Boy and Sleazy fall apart and fall back together - and they realise that life parallels itself in more ways than one

Life loses momentum and so does Woojin. His anxiety skyrockets as stress crawls up his back and whispers in his ear, reminding him that his career choices are limited and his future is uncertain, and it pushes down on his shoulders, sinking down into where it hurts. And amongst this, the repressed belief that he isn’t enough for Jihoon, that Jihoon deserves better, resurfaces and all of Woojin’s fears come to fruition.

 

He spends more time with his dance crew and in turn, Jihoon spends more time with his increasing circle of friends. They never talk about they are or what they have become- they never talk at all it seems, and Woojin slowly loses his mind every night he comes to his dorm and catches sight of photos, trinkets and souvenirs, the shirt he wore when they first met. Everything reminds him of pink hair and glittering eyes so he tries to forget. 

 

Woojin drinks more, under the impression that that’s what university kids do, and embraces the warmth that alcohol gives him as a replacement for arms that used to hold him and a mouth that used to kiss him. He’s overcome with guilt when Hyungseob, a friend from his commerce tutorial tells him that he called him Jihoon when he drunkenly pinned him to the wall and kissed him in the nightclub bathroom.

 

And yet it comes to Woojin drinking more than he knows he can handle, feet dragging him to a campus he thought he forgot the directions to, and to a dorm he hasn’t seen in three months. 

  
  


“Woojin?” 

  
  


It’s the sound of a voice he misses so much that makes him fall to his knees.

  
  


“I-I’m sorry for h-hurting you, Jihoonie,” 

  
  


He doesn’t even know if the door is still open or not. His hiccuping and sobbing is the only sound ringing in his ears.

  
  


“I d-don’t deserve you, you know that? All this time I didn’t deserve you but I w-want you back so bad-” 

  
  
  


-

 

Woojin wakes up to soft crying and a pounding headache, and he wonders in a daze when he’s experienced this before. But when he feels a soft mop of hair against his arm and sobs muffled by the quilt, he recalls all too well.

  
  


“Jihoon?” He manages to croak out, throat dry as sandpaper and the head looks up at him with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Jihoon stands up abruptly when he sees Woojin blinking blearily and his head suddenly pulses in pain when frames of last night pass through his mind like a distorted film.

  
  


“H-hey, how are you-”

  
  


“Jesus, Jihoon I’m so sorry,” Woojin yanks the blanket of his body, eyes darting everywhere but Jihoon as he tries to find his phone, his wallet, his jacket that he swore he was wearing last night before a hand pulls him by the waist and lips smash against his.

  
  


Jihoon kisses him like he’s been starved, like he’s been hurt, like they haven’t seen each other in a lifetime and Woojin staggers backwards, his body reacting even though his mind and his heart scream the opposite. Jihoon’s hands hold his face tenderly despite everything else and Woojin finds himself struggling for air.

  
  


“Jihoon, please,” he murmurs against the other’s lips and Jihoon lets go, breathing heavily as his eyes flash with anger.

  
  


“I hate you Park Woojin, I hate you so, so much,” Jihoon fists at Woojin’s damp t-shirt, forehead leaning into Woojin’s chest. Woojin knows he means it but something else in his voice says otherwise.

  
  


“I hate me too,” he whispers into Jihoon’s locks and Jihoon lets go of his shirt with shaky hands but Woojin grabs them before they fall.

  
  


“What happened?” 

  
  


The question isn’t directed at Jihoon but rather himself, the volume of his voice reflecting that, but Jihoon’s quiet yet laboured breathing brings him back to reality.

 

Woojin slowly interlocks his fingers with Jihoon’s. His hands still feel as soft and warm as Woojin remembers and the constellations that glittered in the other’s eyes never disappeared, but they’re not the same as they used to be- he can’t bear to stare any longer.

 

The silence that follows after, seeping through every crevice and lapping in between them like the sea meeting the land, answers his question.

 

They talk, like they should have three months ago, and Woojin apologises profusely and confesses that his anxiety spiked as post-degree stress festered in his mind, clouding it and he let Jihoon disappear in the fog. Jihoon speaks softly, much unlike what Woojin remembers, and forgives him quickly, which seems to be the only constant that’s remained between them and Woojin’s heart plummets at the realisation.

  
  


“We promised each other so many things, and I know we couldn’t keep all of them, but when it was you that left me behind first-” his voice goes even quieter, but all Woojin can hear is the sound of Jihoon’s breath staggering as he speaks.

  
  


“That hurt the most,”

 

His heart shattersinto a million pieces when he hears those words come out of Jihoon’s mouth, words he wished would never have to come out as long as they were together - yet here they were, broken apart because of him.

  
  


“I’m sorry Jihoon, you didn’t deserve any of that,” 

  
  


“It’s okay-”

  
  


“I broke us apart! I was constantly worrying about myself, what I could do, what I could show that was tangible so that my family would be able to realise what I had achieved and that a performing arts degree wasn’t worthless after all!”

  
  


“It’s not okay, Jihoon, because then I went and lost the person I cherished the most.” 

  
  


He uproots the seed of it all and lets the tears cascade down.

  
  


Jihoon doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t need to because his arms around Woojin, fingers carding through his hair, is enough.

  
  


“Your family is so proud of you Woojin,”

  
  


“But you didn’t see the look on my mum’s face the day we left Jihoon, she- she was disappointed, wondered how her son’s hobby escalated into a  _ passion _ ,” he murmurs into Jihoon’s shoulder, recalling the day at the train station, his mother kissing his head before waving goodbye, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, something unknown cast over her eyes. Woojin only realised too late that it was despondence, a mother with a pharmaceutical degree and a successful business watching her son leave and waste his life away on the arts.

  
  


Jihoon pulls back and his eyes are steely when Woojin meets his gaze.

  
  


“Do you have any idea of how proud your mum is of you Woojin? You seriously think she would give a shit about whether you become a pharmacist or some other high-paying professional- She just wanted you to be happy Woojin,” Jihoon grips at the material on the shoulders of his shirt, words pouring out so fast that he isn’t able to catch them all.

  
  


“She was so proud of you when you told her you wanted to go to school here, she knew you still had your bouts of anxiety and that you could’ve chosen a college in Busan so you wouldn’t have to adjust to a new environment but you didn’t, and she was so happy- God Park Woojin, do you even know your own mother?!” 

  
  


Woojin freezes as the weight of the elder’s words seep in, flushing away everything he once believed.

  
  


“You were projecting your own insecurities and morphing a simple expression of concern into something much more, she’s the main parental figure of your life and I know she means so much to you, but she would never think that you were a disappointment,” Jihoon squeezes his shoulders softly and gives him a familiar, reassuring smile, something Woojin never realised how much he missed.

  
  


“Is this budding-psychiatrist Jihoon speaking?” he rasps out teasingly, wiping his wet cheeks with the back of his hand and Jihoon only laughs, his own hands coming up to Woojin’s face and brushing away any stray tears (Woojin adds that sound onto the endless list of things he missed about his lover).

  
  


“No, this is just your best-friend Jihoon speaking,” the pink-haired male lets his smile grow a little bigger and for the first time in three months, Woojin feels his mouth curling at the ends as well.

  
  


“I was your friend before I was your boyfriend Woojin- even if the line blurred sometimes,” Woojin feels his cheeks burn up and Jihoon’s smile teeters on a smirk before he continues.

  
  


“But remember, I’m always here for you no matter what,” 

  
  


Jihoon looks at him, a warm, iridescent glow emanating from his eyes and Woojin wants to fall right into them. As their fingers find each other and interlock once again, Woojin’s calloused palms meeting Jihoon’s softer ones, faces coming so close that he can feel Jihoon’s breath mixing with his, Woojin realises that he wants this forever.

  
  


“Jihoon, I know I have a habit of deciding what’s good for the people around me and mask my actions, like distancing myself, and sending myself into a self-loathing abyss, amongst other things, as resolutions for both parties,” Woojin breathes slowly, making sure he doesn’t accidentally forget to breathe when he makes eye contact with Jihoon (the amount of times it’s occurred is embarassing on his part).

  
  


“But I want us, but not like before, when it was just me loving you, yet running away and hoping I wouldn’t have to face the music,” 

  
  


The sound of someone holding a in a breath rings softly in his ear, but it’s not his.

  
  


“Park Jihoon, the superior of the two Parks, the love of my pathetic life, and the person I want to father my dogs with, will you be my boyfriend? Again?”

  
  


His heart thrums against his rib cage softly, yet the sound rings in his ears like no other and Park Woojin has never felt so unsure in his life. 

 

Jihoon stares at him with those glazed eyes and Woojin remembers that he can never tell when Jihoon is crying because of the gleam that’s permanently cast over his eyes.

  
  


“Well,” the elder pauses and Woojin cannot, for his  _ life _ , decipher the expression on Jihoon’s face.

  
  


“I don’t trust you to look after anything living by yourself so,” 

  
  


There’s a smug grin plastered onto Jihoon’s face and Woojin almost flings himself out of the window.

  
  


“God, I haven’t been this nervous since well, the last time I asked you out,” Woojin wraps his arms around Jihoon’s waist, breathless as he falls right back into the other’s eyes, sinking straight back into those deep wells and the feeling that washes over him is welcomed with open arms.

  
  


“Let’s not make this a regular thing, okay inferior Park?” Jihoon raises an eyebrow and Woojin assures him with a kiss on the forehead, and a pink tongue settles on the apples of his cheeks. Jihoon’s arms settle comfortably on Woojin’s shoulders, fingers brushing through the short hairs at the back of his neck and he stares at the younger again and Woojin stares back quizzically.

  
  


“Why do you keep looking at me like that? Is there something on my face? I know I haven’t shaven in a little bit but the stubble isn’t that noticeable right? I mean okay maybe a little but-“

  
  


Jihoon sticks his index finger in front of Woojin’s lips like they’ve always belonged there, and Woojin can’t help but grin, nostalgia drifting into his mind like a familiar summer Busan breeze.

  
  


“Shhh, I’m trying to admire the artwork,” 

  
  


Woojin almost  _ screams _ , but a choked sound from the back of his throat resounds instead.

  
  


“I’ve had three months to prepare my pick up line artillery so just you wait Mr 4000 won,”

  
  


Woojin only grins, and the sight of his boyfriend’s stupid smile almost makes the last three months evaporate from his memory.

  
  


“Hey Park Jihoon,”

  
  


“Yes Park Woojin?”

  
  


“I love you,”

  
  


“Oh, I know,”

  
  


And for a moment, they’re thrown back into last summer, under the tree right by the pharmacy, the cicadas and the breeze overwhelming their senses, and the world spins in brilliant technicolour around them. 

  
  


It could spin in a technicolour dream for eons and eons, but to Woojin, Jihoon would be the centre of it all.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, i kNOW - it's been a century, 2park are immortalised cyborgs who still play pranks on w1 and each other. energetic has reached a trillion views, jisung is STILL complaining about the old days, and user crumblyoaf is back with the final instalment of this unnecessarily long fic
> 
> it's a short ending, but i think this is the right length to tie everything up and i'm so thankful to each and every one of you who did stick around to see the (hopefully satisfactory) ending :) we've reached 200 kudos (THANK U SO MUCH??????? I DON'T?????? i'm so so grateful /cries in uwu) and it's the end of the first chaptered fic i've ever written! it's been a helluva a ride, complimented with my awfully LONG breaks in between updates, school being an A grade asshole, wanna one leaving everyone jobless, and a myriad of other factors - every ao3 email for every kudos + comment i get makes my day and i'm going to kind of miss it when i have nothing else to really, well update :')
> 
> i thank you all sincerely from the bottom of my heart for all of the compliments, advice, and sweet words you have to offer, to someone who still has much to learn about expressing and writing <3
> 
> love always, oaf!
> 
> p.s favourite line?  
> p.p.s the epilogue's still coming, just hold on for a little longer! (daethebae, dongie + yvngmin still need to come back!!)


	9. epilogue; one summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you never let go of me even on those hot summer days

They slowly but surely pass the bend, coursing downstream, trickling over stones and rippling softly in the early days of summer.

 

**_MMXXII_ **

_“Hyung you proposed?! I didn’t know you had it in you!”_

 

_“And to think I almost forgot that you were a little prick,” Youngmin sighs, a displeased expression settling onto his face before he breaks face, leaping onto the younger and squashing him into an embrace that could rival the blonde’s own bone-crushing hugs._

 

_“Lim Youngmin, let the baby go!”_

 

_“Dong-mmf-hyun hyung! Is that you?!” Daehwi scrambles out of Youngmin’s arms and into the arms of another familiar face._

 

_“I missed you satan child!” Donghyun ruffles the lean male’s perfectly coiffed hair but Daehwi doesn’t whine and only lets out a small hum._

 

_“I missed you too hyung,”_

 

_Donghyun lets go of the younger, resting his palm on the brunet’s cheek._

 

_“You grew so much our ‘Hwi,” he caresses the younger’s cheek, warmth oozing from his voice and Daehwi smiles, a glassy look glazed over his eyes._

 

_“Group hug?” A voice pipes in and both males turn to look at the man sitting at the table, arms open with a small smile tugging at his lips._

 

_“They’re not here yet, be patient babe,” Donghyun chides the brunet and Youngmin pouts, open arms finding their way around Donghyun’s waist and Daehwi feigns disgust._

 

_“BOO!”_

 

_“You’re still really shit at scaring people hyung,” Daehwi doesn’t even bat an eye at the perpetrator behind his head and the said male only moans, making slow steps towards the table._

 

_“Did he try and scare you again ‘Hwi?,” Another male a few metres behind calls out, only sighing and directing his gaze to a particular ashy-haired male._

 

_“Wooj, I think it’s time to stop,” he sits beside Woojin, who’s still sporting a furrowed brow and screwed up nose, and pats his boyfriend on the back with a whispered ‘there there babe’, to which Woojin only scowls even further at._

 

_“Hi hyungs and Daehwi!” Jihoon exclaims as soon as he tears his eyes away from Woojin and smiles wide as they exchange hugs from across the table._

 

_Woojin follows suit, edges of his lips reaching his ears as he gets tackled by Youngmin and Donghyun and squeezed by Daehwi._

 

_“Did you hear? Youngmin hyung finally put a ring on it!” The youngest of the five jitters in his seat, his blonde hair flying with him and Jihoon and Woojin look at each other knowingly._

 

_Daehwi catches their interaction and halts his flailing._

 

_“Don’t tell me…”_

 

_“Oh no! We just knew for some time already,” Jihoon quells Daehwi’s suspicion hastily and Woojin only smirks._

 

_“Youngmin hyung just didn’t ask you for help on planning the proposal,” the twenty-three-year-old sticks his tongue out at Daehwi and relishes in the blonde’s glowering eyes, which are aimed straight at a certain sheepish-and-maybe-afraid Lim Youngmin._

 

_“I was scared you were going to shoot down my ideas and tear my confidence into shreds so I talked to those two!” the words escape Youngmin’s mouth as soon as Daehwi swivels his head towards the eldest male, and Donghyun only lets out an airy laugh._

 

_“Oh God, I’ve missed you guys too much,”_

 

_They share stories of the past few months and remind each other of the ones from the past few years, laughter tears streaming down their faces as Jihoon recounts the time Woojin almost shat his pants when they were in Japan, shedding tears of joy as Youngmin tells everyone how the actual proposal went down, with helpful commentary from Donghyun, and cheers of celebration as Daehwi informs them of the new composition internship he scored at Brand New Music (as well as the cute guy who he claims has ‘a ridiculously small face, it’s almost the size of a bean!’ that he’s been fawning over since university started.) Their drinks go cold as the winds start to pick up and what was previously a mild spring day transforms into a chilly Seoul night, the slight breeze slipping under the cafe door and seeping through the gaps in their jackets. They exchange goodbyes and promises to meet up again, and everyone makes sure to encourage Daehwi to ask the small-faced boy for his number before they part ways, faces visibly brightened with mirth and content._

 

_“When should I propose to you Jihoonie?”_

 

_Woojin, like the slick man he is, slides his palm into Jihoon’s, fingers intertwining with ease and Jihoon grimaces._

 

_“Not until you learn how to use our washing machine,”_

 

_“Pft, easy,”_

 

_“How about taking care of our dying cacti?”_

 

_“You know I don’t have a green thumb Jihoonie,”_

 

_“They’re cacti Wooj’! You literally need to water them once a month!”_

 

_The bickering continues until they reach their apartment, still grumbling at each other until they reach the door, even when they’re inside the unit, shucking off worn sneakers and jackets, and up until they’ve settled into the large depression that’s conveniently Woojin and Jihoon shaped in the sofa._

 

_“So when do I get to marry you?!”_

 

_“It doesn’t matter Wooj’, seriously,”_

 

_“But don’t you want to get married? Adopt lots of dogs? Buy a house? Live out our domestic dream in a place out near the coast where our dogs can play in the sand and we can actually see the stars and not inhale a shit tonne of fine dust-”_

 

_“Shhh, slow down Woojinie,”_

 

_Jihoon looks up at Woojin with those glimmering eyes that never fail to take his breath away, and brushes through the younger’s silver locks with his fingers._

 

_“It doesn’t matter whether I’ve got a gold band on my finger or not, as long as I’m with you, nothing really matters,”_

 

_He presses a chaste kiss onto Woojin’s lips, hands caressing the tops of his cheeks as he smiles into the kiss. Woojin feels his heart drop off into God knows where when Jihoon kisses him again and pecks his nose with a grin._

 

_“So, you want a gold band?”_

 

_“For Christ’s sake-”_

  
  


It’s the midst of summer when they’re lying on the silky sand of some beach they’ve found along the way to their Airbnb, and the ocean is calm, water lapping gently at the sand and tickling the bottoms of their feet. Jihoon leans his head back in the grove between Woojin’s neck and shoulder, back flush against the younger’s chest, eyes closed as he takes in the sounds of the sea, the scent of salt permeating his nose, and the taste of Woojin’s lip balm lingering on his lips.

 

“Park Jihoon?”

 

“Yes Park Woojin?”

 

“You know I love you right?”

 

“Mmm yeah I love you too Wooj’,”

 

“No- wait, give me a sec,”

 

Jihoon’s head is jostled forward when Woojin wrestles with something in the pocket of his board shorts, and waits patiently for his lover to find whatever he needed to interrupt Jihoon’s serenity for.

 

“Park Jihoon,” Woojin breathes, his hands behind his back and Jihoon cocks his head sideways, trying to peek behind the younger’s back to no avail as Woojin swerves away.

 

“It’s been one thousand, eight hundred and twenty five days, forty three thousand eight hundred hours, and two million and _fuck-_ I forgot the rest but a _shit tonne of numbers_ since I’ve met you, and God, you have no idea what you’ve done for me.”

 

Jihoon’s lower lip is beginning to tremble.

 

“You waltzed into my life with your ugly clothes and sparkly eyes, giving me the best summer of my life, and I honestly don’t know when I fell in love with you; maybe it was when you sprung that stupid pick up line on me, or when you told me I was worth it when for all seventeen years of my life I felt less than, or maybe it was the times you helped me out at the chemist and told me off for my cheeto-stained hands, or the lunches at the diner when you used to order the spicy BLT to spite me but really I just loved seeing you eat- or maybe it was everything.”

 

Woojin’s voice blends in with the sea, but Jihoon hears him loud and clear.

 

“When we were first years and we drifted, I thought it was the end but I couldn’t function without you, and if three months was hell, I couldn’t even fathom any longer, yet you forgave me and kept on loving me even with my shortcomings and flaws, I couldn’t understand why, why you kept at it when I was such a burden to look after and keep up with- but, I understand now,”

 

A small smile tugs on Woojin’s lips as he fingers the velvet box in his hand.

 

“It’s taken me five years to realise that I want to be the one you come home to, the one that brushes through your knotty hair in the morning, the one that cooks you those spicy noodles that always do you more harm than good, the one that makes pretty marks behind your ears, the one that grips your hips and loves you right, the one that kisses you in the morning, at night, during the good times and always in the hard times - I want to be the high school love you get to keep for eternity and the home that will stay with you no matter where you go,”

 

Jihoon’s sobbing as Woojin grabs his hands with the utmost care.

 

“Even if you don’t want me, even if I get too much to bear, I hope you know that I’m always going to better myself for you and well, I’ll love you until the end of time - Park Jihoon, will you marry me?”

 

 

Jihoon makes an ugly sound and nods furiously before throwing his arms around Woojin’s neck, toppling them onto the sand as he presses kisses all over his lover’s face and neck.

 

“Can-can I put the ring on your finger?” Woojin wheezes under his tight embrace and Jihoon sniffles, clambering off his body as he retracts his left hand from behind Woojin’s neck and trembles as the younger slides the ring on slowly.  Admiring it in the light of the sun, Jihoon watches the band glimmer as he turns his wrist and notices Woojin’s gaze in his peripheral.

 

“I- wow, Woojin you’re too good for me,”

 

“You know that’s not true,”

 

“You- you’re not going to-,”

 

“You thought I was going to say _‘No Jihoonie! I’m not good enough for you!!!’_ right?”

 

“Well- I mean- Well, you said it not me!”

 

“I know you don’t like it when I say that, and I said I would always improve myself for you right?”

 

“I don’t want you to say and do things if you don’t truly mean it Wooj’,”

 

“But, that’s the thing- I’m doing it for me. Jihoon, I can’t be your partner for life if I’m not being the best person I can be, and I know- I should’ve started earlier but it hadn’t hit me just yet, that I had to love myself before I could commit to loving you for the rest of my life,”

 

“Wooj’...”

 

“Remember when I asked you to be my boyfriend?”

 

“Hm… which time?”

 

“ _The second time_ , you know when I said that I wanted to start anew and didn’t want to keep running away every time it got difficult?”

 

“Ah yes, I faintly remember you breaking my heart and then gluing it together with your heart-fluttering words,”

 

“ _Jihoon_ ,”

 

“I’m kidding, _fiancé_ ,”

 

“That sounds unreal- _anyways_ , I meant it what I said then, and I figured I should start sticking to my heart-fluttering words, so I can be a better man for you,”

 

“Wooj’, I- I can’t say this eloquently enough but I’m so _fucking_ in love with you, dude,”

 

A laugh bubbles out of Woojin as he throws his head back, and Jihoon soaks it all in. His lover’s tanned skin glistening in the sun, snaggletooth on display, nose scrunched, plush lips stretched wide across his face as he continues to giggle at Jihoon’s words.

 

He can’t believe he gets to have this for the rest of his life.

  
  
  


In all of Jihoon’s 18 years of existence, all he’s ever wanted was someone to hold him, someone to share fries with in the afternoons, someone who would take his hand and never let go, and for someone to admire him like he was the universe and more.

 

But when he encounters a tanned male with a shock of red hair and an endearing snaggletooth, sweat rolling down the side of his neck whilst the air con blasts behind him, and a slight penchant for overcharging on the account of bad pick-up lines, he starts to think a little differently.

  
  
  
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i still have so much more to learn and improve on so i'm grateful for every little bit of love you've given me - this epilogue was a little self-indulgent but!!! i still hope you guys enjoy it :)
> 
>  
> 
> much much love,  
> oaf ♡
> 
> p.s the band is gold

**Author's Note:**

> hi i love 2park with all my heart (panwink and jinseob are shaking in their boots) and here's a little something i thought of a while ago!
> 
> i'll be on [tumblr](vocalpmh.tumblr.com) if you need to cry about w1 or 2park or how climate change is engulfing the earth at an alarming rate :))
> 
> edit; chapter titles!  
> 1\. australia street - sticky fingers  
> 2\. walk you home - nct dream  
> 3\. i promise u - wanna one  
> 4\. hug me - ikon  
> 5\. polaris - astro  
> 6\. i've forgotten what song this is hjsgfajskgfhjf   
> 7\. through and through - khai dreams  
> 8\. get you - daniel caesar ft. kali uchis  
> 9\. one summer - yang da il ft. wendy


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